White Butler
by Deltoran Merchant
Summary: A spin-off of Black Butler. Meet Thomas Angelus, Marquess of Angelus and owner of Angelus Industries, a technology company. He also possesses an extraordinary butler and a bottomless spring of kindness and generosity. But what else is there to him?
1. Episode 1  Part 1

**White Butler**

**Episode 1 – Part 1**

Twelve year old Thomas woke from his slumber to the sound of a knock at his door. "It is time to wake up Lord Thomas," said a kind and polite voice. The door opened and a man in a white suit and blond hair in a ponytail entered the large, elegantly designed Victorian bedroom. He moved across the blue carpet and pulled back the gold drapes over the window. "Shall I help you dress Master?"

Thomas stretched a little, a smile on his face already. "Oh Basil, I've told you before not to concern yourself too much with menial jobs. I'm quite capable of dressing myself," Thomas said politely, his blue eyes shining with joy under his still uncombed blond hair. He was a slim boy, but with a certain strength to his form. "Just see to breakfast's preparation, and make sure you have plenty of time to eat too."

"Your kindness is as strong as ever," Basil said and bowed. "I shall leave you to dress then."

Thomas dressed himself in white shirt, gold waistcoat, white breeches, and a white frock coat with gold trim and buttons. He pulled on his white socks and gold boots and made sure to brush his hair and he left the room with his favourite white and gold walking stick, the image of nobility that he was. He greeted his various staff as he made his way to the dining room, being as cheery and pleasant as always.

He sat down at the dining table and had breakfast, which he found to be as delicious as ever and he made sure to compliment Basil and his cook. "I have such wonderful staff," he said as he helped Basil carry some of the dishes back to the kitchen.

"You tell us the same every morning Master," Basil noted.

"I know, but it cannot be said often enough."

"Master, do you insist on helping me carry dirty dishes? You'll ruin your clothes and it's dreadfully improper for a noble to be helping his servants."

"Nonsense," Thomas replied cheerily. "It's not as if I have much else to do anyways."

"Angelus Industries; primary producer of the latest and greatest technology, and its owner helps the help," Basil mused.

Thomas giggled. "Nobody else knows," he added brightly. "Some of our minds have been trying to make Babbage's machine. Who knows, maybe it'll work. Think of the change it could bring to calculation." He and Basil were just entering the kitchen so they dropped off the dishes, Thomas giving a cheery greeting to the chef and complimenting him on the meal, and then headed towards Thomas' study.

"Yes my lord, the things your company produces are quite marvellous. However I am afraid I must draw your attention to your other role."

"Oh, you mean the Order?"

"Yes Master, have they sent any news?"

"I do not know, the mail has not been brought in," Thomas said. "Guess I will go do that."

"No my lord, you continue to your study. As your butler it is my job to bring in the mail."

"Is it really that improper for me to get my own mail?" Thomas asked.

"Yes, and I do have this job for a reason. I cannot do my job if you are always doing it for me."

"Oh, okay then." Thomas continued up the stairs and sat down at his desk, while he was kept informed of his company's work, he was able to delegate the tasks of directly maintaining it to some of his father's friends. He had other concerns outside the world of economics and politics that required his attention far more urgently.

Minutes later Basil entered his study with a tightly sealed envelope bearing a seal of blue wax. Thomas took the envelope and opened it to read the updates from the Order of Light. "I see," he muttered, almost dejectedly.

"What's the matter my Lord?" Basil asked.

"Well..." Thomas began, resting his elbows on his desk and crossing his fingers under his chin. "As you know we discovered that the current Earl Phantomhive, Ceil, had consorted with a demon. The Phantomhives are a noble and generous family and the work they do to help children has always been most admirable. I had reported my findings on this demon, Sebastian he calls himself, and asked what actions should be taken."

"And?"

"The Order has deemed neither of them a threat and I am too maintain vigil over them, but take no other action," Thomas finished, a strangely depressed tone entering his usually cheerful voice. "Anyways, call the household to the meeting room; we must go over the new orders."

"Yes master." Basil left the room, leaving Thomas to his thoughts.

"So Phantomhive, the shadow has consumed even you," he muttered. The Angelus family, whom he was head of, had always been skilled inventors and skilled at acquiring the money to create the inventions. Most of their more advanced technology however was developed in secret and donated to the Order of Light.

The Order of Light was a powerful force of good, founded by the Kingdom of Atlantis and committed to serving the Gods of Earth in protecting the world of mortals from evil; from protecting Egypt from the machinations of Set, to stopping the Titans from returning to the world. The chapter that Thomas worked for was devoted to the god of light Yahweh, the god that others referred to as the Creator. They had one primary enemy: the demons of Hell.

He sighed and stood, making his way down the hall to his meeting room. Within the room sat a round table of fair size with doves and angels and saints on the walls, though in styles rather different from the more common depictions. Thomas took his seat at a large, ornate chair directly opposite the door and waited for the others to arrive.

He didn't have to wait long. Basil arrived with a middle-aged man in a clean white suit and monocle, a young maid in blue dress, and the gardener and cook who were a rarity in that they were twins. "Steward Azrael, Maid Mary, Gardener Raphael and Chef Uriel, please hurry and sit," Thomas said, fingers folded in front of him.

The staff did as told and waited for their lord to begin speaking. "Well my lord?" Azrael inquired.

"We are in an age of great change," Thomas began. "Technology advances faster in ten years than it has in the last hundred. The steam engine has made all our lives many times easier, and it is only the beginning. It forms the basis for any number of engine designs, and a number of different materials could make it work, perhaps more effectively.

"But this change has brought with it a great darkness. A shadow is falling over Europe as the greed of the empires consumes them and pushes them towards further expansion and further consumption of resources. The tension is rising even now, and I dread the day when it breaks. The Prophets have foreseen it: plains of mud and wreckage littered with the bodies of soldiers, thousands of young men sent to their deaths. It will be a war like no other this world has yet experienced.

"I do not believe we can stay the course that we have begun to tread down. What we can do is fight the shadow to the best of our ability and ensure that none that bask in darkness take the mortal situation to their advantage.

"Our allies lessen by the day. Even the great Phantomhives, for whom I held great respect, have fallen beneath the shadow. All that's left of that great and noble family is a shell of a boy, driven only by hate and revenge and consorting with a foul demon. Yet they present no immediate threat and so we shall only watch and attempt to minimize the damage they might cause."

Azrael was the first to speak in the wake of Lord Angelus' speech. "The demon Sebastian... it is tame for the moment yes?"

"Yes, and there is a much more threatening creature roaming the streets of London."

"Jack the Ripper," Raphael muttered quietly.

"No," Thomas said. "Although that creature is indeed a most terrible threat, I am told that Her Majesty has become more aware of him. As such it is likely her faithful shadows will be dealing with the Ripper in the near future. The creature to which I refer was named after that other, but is far more threatening and terrifying. I refer to Spring-Heeled Jack."

"I've heard a little of that," May said, "Breathes fire and jumps over buildings."

"Correct. In addition I've heard that vampires and werewolves have become more active recently. So here are the instructions: Azrael, I want you to work on the preparation of holy water, throwing crosses, enchanted knives and so on."

"Understood my lord."

"Mary, I would like you to double check the building's protection, but other than that you will continue your usual duties unless I can think of a task."

"Yes Master Angelus."

"Raphael, begin growing Aconite, and plenty of it. It will be a suitable counter to werewolves."

"As you wish."

"And Uriel, see that our medicinal potions are stocked and prepared. Who knows when they will come in handy."

"Yes my lord."

"Good, go to your assignments," Thomas said, getting to his feet. "As for myself and Basil; we're going to handle two tasks at once. We'll wait for nightfall to find Jack and in the meantime we'll be keeping an eye on Lord Phantomhive, and try to minimize the damage his madness will likely cause." As he returned to his room to grab his hat and cloak he took a moment to say one last thing to his staff, "And remember, please don't overwork yourselves."

((()))

"So shall we take that new contraption of yours?" Basil asked.

"It's called an automobile Basil, and no, I do not wish to draw attention with something as new as that. I was thinking of a less... conventional method of travel."

"Oh, you mean a portal?"

"Correct, now hurry and open one. Make sure that the demon won't sense our arrival." A shining archway appeared, a soft glow emanating within. Thomas placed his top hat on and made sure his white cloak was fastened before he stepped into the glowing warmth of the portal.

The warm light caressed him as he travelled through a short tunnel that shone gold and white, and then he exited the other end... and stepped in a puddle in the mire surrounding the Phantomhive mansion. Luckily it wasn't deep and they'd come out near the edge of the swamp and so Thomas was able to find a dry path up into the forest, with the mansion looming overhead on a hill, a thin fog surrounding the entire vale. "This whole place feels cursed," Thomas muttered, wrapping his cloak around himself.

"Such is the effect a demon's very presence brings to the land around it," Basil mused sadly. "Luckily his powers are greatly restrained, so nature is able to push on."

"Well... we have a view of the road, we're hidden in the forest, I guess we'll just have to wait now," Thomas said, lowering his voice a little. There was a time of silence in which Thomas sat on his cloak, wondering what he was thinking wearing clothes for town while taking on a task like spying. He didn't care though; he wanted to see what had happened to the current Lord Phantomhive.

"Master, if it isn't out of line, why do you take such interest in this Ciel child?" Basil asked.

"I understand the hurt he's been feeling," Thomas muttered distractedly, "To lose your family when you're so young, and it happened to us both around the same time. But instead of reaching out for a helping hand, Ceil reached down for a loaded weapon, and he unleashed a weapon far worse than I think even he can imagine."

"You want to save him?" Basil asked. Thomas continued to stare up at the mansion, his brow furrowed and a sadness passing into his face.

"Yes... do you think it's possible?"

"If he truly and sincerely asks for forgiveness and returns the demon to where it belongs, than yes."

"In his current mental state I don't know if that will be happening before his soul his devoured."

"Don't lose hope master. You have pulled off greater miracles yet."

"Thank you Basil," Thomas said somewhat sombrely. They fell into silence again, time crawling by as they watched, nothing of interest happening. At last Thomas once again spoke up. "There is a house I've heard of on the outskirts of London, home to an Evolutionist by the name of Lord Smith. It's said however that there's something strange about the house, perhaps we should investigate."

"Except we'll need to keep an eye on Lord Phantomhive," Basil pointed out.

"You should know me well enough by now to know I already have a plan for that." Thomas placed his hand on a tree trunk and muttered something, there was a slight glow and when he removed his hand there was a white shape in shape of an eye. "There, a Mark of Sight, linked into my Mark of Partnership, so I can see from this eye if I should so please."

"I see, you wanted to search for an appropriate location for a Mark of Sight."

"And I wanted to see the Phantomhive land for myself. Look!" Thomas added abruptly, pointing to a carriage rumbling up the road towards the mansion. Inside, from what they could see, was a lady dressed all in red and a man in green and purple.

"I believe that is Ceil's aunt," Basil said.

"He has an aunt?" Thomas asked in surprise.

"Yes, I'm surprised you did not know. Her name is Lady Red, and if I'm seeing correctly then one of her servants appears to be a Reaper."

"What!"

"Keep it down sir," Basil chastised, covering his lord's mouth, seeing the carriage driver look around. The man shrugged and urged the horses onwards. "My apologies my Lord," Basil whispered, removing his hand.

"Not a problem. So you say one of her servants is a Reaper? That's not possible, a Reaper is supposed to follow the law of the Council, why would one serve a human?"

"Any number of reasons, but there are the occasional Reapers who become a little... addicted to their jobs. They'll look for any excuse to kill indiscriminately."

"I see... I don't like it when a new piece gets added to the board," Thomas added distantly. "It's even more difficult being forced to simply watch the game."

"Master, it is nearing luncheon, do you think we should return to the mansion now? You said yourself you have a mark in place."

"Hmm, yes I believe you're right. Open the way please."

About an hour later Thomas was preparing to head into town, his pocket watch read the time as about one-thirty. They'd opted to take his car, with Basil driving. Thomas hadn't received any notification from his Mark of Sight and so he was going to do some inquiry into Spring-Heeled Jack and have a look at the town to see if there were any notable crises he might lend his assistance to fixing.

He spent the drive into town with his chin on his cane. "Assembling a strategy Master?" Basil asked.

"Perhaps," Thomas muttered in response. As they came into town they passed by a large, old house that loomed ominously from atop a hill. Though it probably wasn't much older than the Angelus or Phantomhive mansions, there was something eerie about it. "That's Lord Smith's house."

"So that's why you had me travel this more unconventional road," Basil said.

"Yes. That house is a ripe target for investigation; I can smell the evil there."

"As can I. Let's get away from it, the very presence... I can't look anymore," Basil said turning away and keeping his eyes fixed on the road. "If only these automobiles could speed up."

"That's an intriguing idea," Thomas muttered as they drove on. "If you could regulate the flow of fuel to the engine..."

Thomas fell into a thoughtful silence and Basil drove on until they came into London proper. He continued his thoughts as he stepped out of the car and strolled down the street with Basil. "Are you okay Lord?" a younger boy dressed in rags asked. He immediately covered his mouth and bowed deeply.

"I'm fine," Thomas replied, breaking into a grin. "I'd be more concerned with you. Tell me you name."

"U-uh, Ph-Phillip, sir," the boy stuttered, bowing low.

"Walk with me Phillip," Thomas requested kindly. "Or are you busy?"

"I wish I were busy sir, but I haven't been allowed a job and I'm too poor for school, I just live on the streets see," Phillip explained, Thomas noting his strong cockney accent.

"I see well there's always space at one of my company's boarding schools. They aren't great conditions I will admit, but better than the street and it's our policy to ensure all students have a soft bed, warm food and a basic education," Thomas explained. "I know it's not much, but I can't spread my resources too thin, so how about it?"

"You own a school sir?" the boy asked.

"Oh, I forgot to introduce myself didn't I? Marquess Thomas Angelus at your service," Thomas said, tipping his hat.

"L-lord Angelus! Oh I'm s-so honoured sir," Phillip stuttered, bowing again. "Yes sir I would be honoured to attend one of your schools."

"Please calm yourself Phillip, it's the least I can do to help a child who's down on his luck," Thomas said with a smile. "Charity is a rare commodity, and I make sure Angelus Industries remembers to be as charitable as possible."

"Thank you my Lord, I cannot express my gratitude. Come, join me on my errands and I'll drive you out to the school on my way back."

"Drive sir? You has one of them automobiles I hear men at the docks talk about!"

"I do. Oh and this man here is my butler Basil," Thomas said, gesturing to the man in white who'd stood quietly as the two kids spoke.

"Pleasure to meet you young Phillip."

"Yes as it is for me sir," the boy replied. "So what's these errands you have to run? Do you have servants for that?"

"I do, but I like to do things myself, and a good walk around town is always nice. Now then I have to drop off a cheque at the Angelus Outreach to England Center, and then I have a few new ideas I want to discuss with the mechanical section."

"What sorts of ideas sir?"

"There was one I had about automobiles being able to speed up and slow down. Also had this idea for a sort of metal man powered by steam, what do you think?"

"A metal man sir? That makes no sense," Phillip said. "How would you make a man out of metal? It sounds impossible."

"This is the Age of Science, and with science anything is possible," Thomas explained brightly. "I think we need some sweets," Thomas added, seeing a nearby sweetshop. He pushed the door open, Basil and Phillip following him. "Now you can get one thing, and it can be anything you want, as long as it's not a Phantomhive product," Thomas said to Phillip.

"Why not Phantomhive sir?" Phillip asked.

"He has more than enough money already, I like to help out the less prevalent companies."

"O-oh my," the shopkeeper stuttered as he saw his customer. "Marquess, what an honour it is, my welcome humble store- I mean welcome to my humble store."

"Calm down, I'm just here to buy a couple things for myself and my young friend here."

"That street rat is with you?" the shopkeeper asked.

"Yes, and I would prefer if you did not call him street rat, in fact I'm quite sure he would prefer it that way too."

"But-"

"And," Thomas added "He will address you properly, I do not like to see people disrespecting each other based on how much money they have. Now then Mr. Copper, I would like a bag of Turkish delight please and..."

"Chocolate bar please sir," Phillip added.

Mr. Copper grabbed both items and Thomas passed a couple gold coins over the counter, at the sight of which Mr. Copper's eyes opened wide. "But my Lord, these are guineas."

"Yes they are," Thomas said simply, pocketing the Turkish delight and passing the chocolate bar to Phillip. "Is there something wrong with them?" he asked, picking up one of the coins and looking it over.

"But my Lord, I'm but a humble shopkeep, you should not be paying me in such fine coin, and so much over the price of what you bought."

"Five shillings altogether right? I gave you a little extra, I hope it helps," Thomas finished, putting the coin he had back on the counter and leaving the shop, leaving a surprised shopkeeper behind him.


	2. Episode 1 Part 2

**Episode 1 – Part 2**

"Why did you give him so much?" Phillip asked as they made their way to the charity center.

"Why not?" Thomas asked. "He needs a little extra."

"There's no one else in London who's that nice."

"My parents always told me to be as charitable as possible, because charity is in short supply," Thomas explained. "I will always follow what they told me."

"That's amazing sir. What's the reason you dislike Lord Phantomhive?"

"There are many reasons to dislike Phantomhive, he is a spoiled, selfish brat for one," Thomas explained. "His parents were great people, similar to mine, but their son disgraces their memory at every turn."

"Do you know Lord Phantomhive, sir?"

"Not personally, but I do know plenty about him."

"You know, I think I overheard someone talking about him. A foreigner with a funny accent, think he said he was from Italy, but he looked kinda mean."

"Could be a Mafioso," Thomas mused. "Anyways here we are, Angelus Outreach to England Center." They stood in front of a rather large, long building that looked sort of like a warehouse, but cleaner and more maintained. "They were closing this old warehouse here, so my dad bought it, fixed it up and turned it into the Outreach center. We put beds and tables in there and simple, but healthy meals."

Inside was a front area with two large desks; one for donations and one for signing in and out. It was fairly warm outside still, so the place was actually rather empty. Nonetheless he strode up to the counter for donations and handed them the check. "Lord Angelus!" the man behind the counter cried with shock and bowed slightly.

"Just take the check," Thomas chuckled. He handed it over and tipped his hat to everyone in the front area of the building before finally heading back outside. Within seconds of stepping outside they saw a number of police chasing an automobile.

"Stop that man!" one of them cried as the automobile vanished down the street. The police came to a halt and talked to each other as orders went out and the bulk of the officers dashed back the direction they'd come as fast as they can.

"Scotland Yard yes?" Thomas asked, approaching one of the remaining officers.

"Lord Angelus!" the officer cried with surprise and dropped into a clumsy bow.

"Nevermind the bowing, what's going on?"

"That man who escaped, he's James Wilkson, a dangerous murderer who escaped from prison two weeks ago. We were so close to catching him, but he escaped."

"Ah, well then," Thomas said, stretching his arms and handing his hat to his butler. "Basil, you and Phillip continue with the daily tasks, I have a murderer to catch."

"My lord it's far too dangerous," the officer protested.

"I'll be perfectly fine," Thomas assured. Before anyone could protest any further he grinned and dashed down the street the direction the car had gone, holding his cane more like a sword. He dashed down an alley and jumped between the closer walls to reach the rooftops and from there was better able to look around. "Rune of Sight, show me the location of James Wilkson," he chanted, a rune glowing on his forehead as he continued to speak in an ancient language.

Thomas closed his eyes, but his sight wasn't cut off. Indeed this action let him tune himself to the rune and see the images it showed him. The man was surprisingly well dressed, with neatly combed hair and a fine black suit. However Thomas could see the evil within the man and knew not to be deceived. Indeed Thomas was having the suspicion that the evil may not entirely be of mortal creation. "He's heading for the docks," Thomas surmised. 'And if I use the rooftops I'll make it before he does.'

He jumped down from the roofs and dashed down into the docks area only minutes before James Wilkson arrived. The man looked around as he made his way towards a small warehouse. Nobody seemed to notice him and he slipped inside the building. Thomas had to do a better job of hiding, as his presence was far less conspicuous then Wilkson's. Nonetheless he made it into the warehouse shortly behind the murderer, and without interruption.

The warehouse was relatively empty, but James was nowhere to be seen. Thomas wasn't entirely surprised by this though and he strode through the warehouse, scanning it with an analytical eye. At last he caught it, a slight shimmer in a section of the floor that only one tuned with magic would be able to notice; the sign of a chameleon spell. Thomas tapped his cane on the shimmering floor and it vanished, revealing a staircase leading down into a dark dungeon.

He descended into the dungeon and pushed open the thick iron door and strode down the dank hallway on the other side. On the other side of the door at the end of the hall he could hear voices talking. "I have returned my lord," came the voice of James Wilkson, sounding reverent and heavily apologetic.

"You have not disappointed me Wilkson," a deep, booming voice said. "The murders in the prison were more than enough to atone for your being caught... though I require more sacrifice before I am able to manifest."

"I will do as you wish master."

"Then make your first sacrifice the intruder that has followed you," the voice said, making Thomas' heart skip a beat knowing he'd been caught.

"Intruder!" James cried angrily.

"Yes, intruder," Thomas said, pushing open the door and strolling into the dark, rectangular room. It was small and dimly lit, with an altar at the far end where James had apparently been kneeling. "James Wilkson, it would be best for all of us if you returned to prison."

"Do you think you can order me around boy?" James said.

"Perhaps not, but I like to think of it as more of a suggestion," Thomas said, staring right into the man's eyes. They were wild and crazed, though still glittered with a cruel intellect. "Just as your master suggested I be his next sacrifice."

"And yet I would feel bad about marring such a handsome young face before it's reached its prime," James said. "Perhaps you could find a replacement."

"Not a chance. In fact I can assure you that you will not lay a finger on me," Thomas said.

"And how do you propose you'd stop me. You rich pretty boys aren't known for your ability to fight."

"Perhaps, but there are always exception," Thomas said, swinging his cane up horizontally. Light shimmered across it and in a single bright flash it was no longer a cane, but a silver rapier with a golden hilt and wing-shaped cross guard. "Behold Vahka, my faithful companion," Thomas said, swinging the sword down to his side. "I'll give you one last chance. Surrender and return to jail."

"No," James said, grabbing a black blade from beside the altar and charging at Thomas. The Marquess blocked the blow with his sword and grinned as James drew back to strike again, only for Thomas to parry the blow and strike back. Sparks flew from their blades as they struck and parried, circling around each other and leaving the dungeon, fighting up the stairs into the warehouse.

"I told you that you wouldn't touch me," Thomas said with a cheeky grin.

"How is such a cheeky brat a noble?" James spat. Thomas shrugged and saw James lower his defence for half a second and took the opportunity to stab at him with Vahka. James reacted at the last second, even though Thomas hadn't been intending to strike a fatal blow, and moved so that that blade stabbed into James' free hand instead. Almost immediately the wound began to smoke and burn.

"What... what did you do to me?" James gasped in horror and intense pain.

"Vahka is an ancient blade, forged with holy power infused in its metal," Thomas said, sounding serious. "Those of dark intent, of corrupt and evil nature, will be burned by its light. Now surrender, you have been debilitated."

"I fight to the last breath," James said and smashed the concrete wall of the warehouse, sending a cloud of stone and dust toppling down as he bolted from the building.

"Why do they always choose that option?" Thomas mused to himself and dashed after the murderer. Surprisingly he couldn't see him, but did see a dock worker looking confused. "Ah good sir, you didn't happen to see a big, kind of mean looking guy run by did you?"

"Uh yeah, he ran towards the drydock," the man replied and Thomas ran off in the direction the man pointed without even explaining. The drydock was a small one, used only for small repairs to ships and not usually building them. However it still had a crane nearby for attaching masts, and it was this crane that James was climbing, despite his wounded hand.

"Speed," Thomas muttered and cast a spell, the spell making his feet glow and ethereal wings of light appeared on his shoes, like the sandals of Hermes. When he ran he ran with speed matching a motor vehicle, at the least. "What are you doing!" he shouted at James as he climbed the stairs within the concrete mount that the crane sat on.

The chase led him up to the top of the mount and from there James climbed the crane itself, squirming out through the framework and walking out across the lowered arm, currently hanging high over deep water. Thomas followed him, gingerly making his way across the framework, the wind blowing his cloak so that it billowed to his side. "What are you doing!" Thomas shouted over the wind.

"I refuse to be captured," James said, backing up to the end of the crane's arm, "If I cannot defeat you in battle, than I will destroy your intentions and perform a final sacrifice to my master."

"No!" Thomas shouted, realizing where this was going, "I can help you! Don't jump and I can help you, trust me!"

"Not a chance," James spat, spreading his arms wide. "Nobody can help me now." With those words he stepped back and tumbled down to the water below, landing spread-eagled on the surface. Thomas stopped and gazed at the water for at least ten minutes, and when James' body finally resurfaced it was limp and still, clearly quite dead.

"Basil," he muttered sadly. The butler appeared behind him, standing with perfect balance on the crane.

"Yes Master Thomas?" Basil said.

"I failed," the boy muttered sadly, "I always try, and I rarely succeed."

"Perhaps some humans are just too far gone to be saved," Basil suggested, sounding as stoic as ever.

"Perhaps," Thomas mused, turning to his butler. "Take me back to where you were." Basil bowed and, to Thomas' surprise, picked him up and held him horizontally. In a burst of white they were standing in a small alley off the market street where Basil put his master back on the ground. "Where is Phillip?" Thomas asked. "And just as importantly, where's my hat?"

"Right here sir," Basil said, placing the white top hat upon his master's head. "I have completed the shopping and dropped young Phillip off at the orphanage."

"Sweet," Thomas said.

"Another anachronistic word usage Master," Basil reminded.

"What? Oh… yeah, it's 1888."

"Master, did you perform your meditation today?"

"No," Thomas said proudly. "I don't forget when I am that often."

"Often enough," the butler muttered. "Now where are you going?" he asked as Thomas began walking down the street opposite of the direction they'd left the automobile.

"Probably the bookshop, but you never know what you'll find in a shop," Thomas explained brightly. "I heard that there were some gypsies in town; that sounds interesting."

"But sir it's almost time for afternoon tea," Basil protested, desperately trying to keep his young charge in some semblance of a traditional lifestyle.

"I'll be having afternoon tea for the next hundred years Basil, but I won't get to visit gypsies," Thomas reasoned, "So come on!" He dashed off in the direction of the park he'd heard the gypsies to be at, with Basil quickly catching up.

"Master shouldn't we use a cab instead of running?"

"Honestly Basil you need to learn to lighten up," Thomas replied happily as they neared the park and he began to slow down. He could see the colourful tents and caravans in the main clearing of the small park, and the olive-skinned people with just as colourful clothes. "I've always loved gypsies," Thomas commented.

"Not often have I heard those words spoken," came the accented voice of a young gypsy girl.

"Oh hello Syeira," Thomas said brightly, "No wait, this is our first meeting isn't it?"

"Interesting comment," Syeira noted, "This is the first time we've met, but how do you already know me? Do you have the Sight?"

"Don't worry about it," Thomas said. The girl was young, about his age, and was fair featured under her colourful dress and gold bangles. "I am Marquess Thomas, pleasure to meet you Syeira," Thomas added, bowing politely.

"A marquess? Then why are you bowing to me?" Syeira asked, curtsying.

"My master has a rather blatant disregard for tradition and propriety," Basil sighed, "I know it is brilliant of him to be so loose, but he makes me run all over town after him."

"You enjoy it," Thomas teased and began to stroll towards the gypsy camp. "So what cool stuff you got here this year."

"Cool stuff?" Syeira asked, confused.

"Oh excuse me, I mean neat things," Thomas corrected, realizing he'd said something from the wrong time again.

"It depends on what you mean by 'neat'."

"I mean magic," Thomas said. "I _am _a mage after all."

"Are you really?" Syeira asked as they entered the camp. Thomas nodded and looked around, before summoning an orb of light over his palm. He clenched his hand and the orb burst into a shower of colourful sparkles that vanished when they hit the ground. "That's amazing!" Syeira said, "And you did it so easily too."

"It was an exceedingly simple spell. So do you have any magical artifacts?" Thomas asked.

"Well Madame Electra is a seeress and she has stuff she sells," Syeira said, pointing to a particularly large, blue tent that was already set up. With Basil and Syeira in tow Thomas dashed to the large tent and moved back the entrance tarp to walk into a well-lit room with a fortune telling table in the center and long tables on three sides with a variety of objects on them.

Sitting at the table was an aged gypsy woman in a blue dress decorated with stars and an indigo cloak. Despite her wrinkles and obvious age, she stood mostly upright and was quite tall, and her blue eyes twinkled almost as bright as Thomas' own, but her hair was white. "Syeira, who is this you have brought to see me? A rather pompous looking youth aren't you."

"Marquess Thomas at your service maam," Thomas said politely, "And Syeira tells me you're Madame Electra. It is a pleasure to meet you."

"So well mannered, and what's more you seem to have no problem with our people," Electra said.

"Why would I have a problem with you?" Thomas asked, sounding genuinely confused.

"You don't know that most of Europe thinks us nothing but thieves?" Syeira asked.

"Oh right," Thomas muttered with realization, "Well no gypsy I've ever met has stolen from me, and if they did then it would be the fault of the individual."

"You are extremely wise for your years," Electra said with surprise, but sounding pleased.

"People will understand one day, don't worry," Thomas said, sounding very certain of this. "At any rate I am told you're a seeress and that you sell magic objects, however the crystal ball makes me wonder."

"How so?" Madame Electra asked.

"Well," Thomas began, moving over the table and tapping on the crystal ball, "For one it's not crystal, it's just glass. For two it's hollow. For three..." Thomas trailed off, using his cane to lift the long drape over the table, "It's connected to a pump with dry ice to create mist that you pump into the ball with this pedal," Thomas said, looking at the small cylinder under the table with a tube leading up and a foot pedal, similar to a piano pedal, in place that when pushed down by his foot did indeed pump mist into the glass ball. "Also," Thomas said, "I can see an Angelus Miniature Battery under there. And finally; anyone with magical skill for foresight ability knows that a crystal ball only looks across space, not time."

"My master is correct in everything he says," Basil said, "This crystal ball set-up is a fake."

Syeira's mouth hung open in shock, but Madame Electra smiled. "Yes it is, but I have to do my part to help our caravan earn money," she said, "And it's very impressive that you figured it out, though what of that last comment? How do you know what a crystal ball is for?"

"I'm a mage," Thomas said simply, beginning to look around the tables at the various artifacts. They ranged from carved stones, to gemmed amulets, to gold crowns, daggers, swords, gauntlets, gloves, armour, crosses, pendants, and all manner of objects and devices.

"Are you the Great Mage of London?" Electra asked hopefully.

"The Great Mage of London? I've never heard that name before," Thomas said with a laugh, "But I'm the only mage I know of in London, I'd have sensed if there were others."

"Are you able to see the future?" Madame Electra asked, to which Thomas became oddly silent and sombre.

"You could say that," Thomas said morosely. "It's more that I see all of time, every single second that has existed and could exist, but I have no control over what I'm seeing, nor is it usually particularly clear." Thomas shook his head and took a deep breath, then a smile returned to his face and his happy demeanour was restored after which he said; "So Madame Electra, what do you want with the Great Mage?"

"Many of those artifacts have passed into my possession," Madame Electra said, "Some we found, some were sold to us, and some I've been given or simply inherited. I was wondering if you could tell me which ones have magical properties and which ones are harmless."

"Sure, I'll help," Thomas said cheerfully, "Anything to help out others."

Just then he felt a strange headache pulse in his brain. It was an alert from his sight rune, and closing his eyes he saw a strange car driving up to the Phantomhive Estate. The man driving the car, from what his rune could see, was Italian and there was something about the guy Thomas didn't like, including the fact that he was tailed by another car with two men in it that seemed to be thugs. "Basil, we have action," Thomas said suddenly, "Madame Electra, and Ms. Syeira, I'm afraid you'll have to excuse me, something just came to my attention."

With that he hurried out of the tent, with Basil beside him. They moved to a hidden section of the park where Basil opened a portal that he and Thomas quickly stepped through and closed behind them.


	3. Episode 1 Part 3

**Episode 1 - Part 3**

"What do you think it is master?" Basil asked as the two arrived back in the marsh-covered land of the Phantomhive Estate.

"Could be anything really," Thomas said, leading them up to the road, "But if my senses are correct than it's somebody with ill intent towards Phantomhive, and if that's the case than the demon will become involved."

"And our job is to make sure the demon doesn't cause too much unnecessary damage," Basil finished.

"Precisely," Thomas replied, watching the road with bated breath. The first car soon came back down the road, speeding along very quickly. In those few seconds Thomas was able to get a better look at the driver. He was definitely Italian, and he had thoughts of money in his mind. "Mafia," Thomas said, "That's my theory. And if that is the case then I'm afraid the poor men are in for a punishment far beyond anything they deserve."

A short time later, perhaps fifteen minutes, the second car appeared, moving down the road as fast as it could. Within another ten minutes a dark figure in a black suit sped down the road in the same direction, red eyes gleaming from his face. "That's the demon," Basil almost spat.

"Come on Basil," Thomas said, at which his butler scooped him up and spread a pair of brilliant white wings which he used to soar into the sky. Using his inherent control over light he made the rays bend around him and thus render him and his passenger invisible.

They followed the demon, Sebastian, as he closed in on the second car. The chase led through cliffs, and it was here that the Demon caught up to the thugs in the car. Basil alighted further up the cliffs and he and Thomas watched as an exchange went through, and Thomas felt a level of chagrin to see that the thugs had somehow managed to acquire an Angelus Prototype Automobile Telephone. He felt further annoyance when he saw Sebastian destroy it, and the loss of that prototype only added to his issues with the creature that disguised itself as a human.

The car had swerved when Sebastian had gotten close and come to rest halfway over the cliff's edge, with Sebastian perching on the hood and being the only thing preventing the car from tumbling down into the woods below and killing its occupants. Thomas knew that Sebastian, as a demon, cared nothing for their lives and so would inevitably let the car fall. That would be where they came in.

"He's getting ready to leave," Basil said as Sebastian stood. The demon leapt off the car and dashed off to find his master, and the car tumbled down the cliffside.

"Go Basil!" Thomas cried, the angel taking flight and hurtling towards the falling far, while Thomas himself slid down the cliffside from their perch. "Nirwa," he muttered, a cushion of air forming under him and allowing him to land on the road without harm.

Thomas hurried to the next cliff edge and saw Basil catch the car only feet above the ground. Thomas cast his air cushion spell again and floated down from this part of the cliff, coming to rest at the same time that Basil set the car down. The two terrified thugs looked around wildly, surprised at their change of fortune. "How did you do that?" one of them asked, seeing Thomas finish floating down. "And how come we're not dead?"

"My butler saved you," Thomas said cheerily, "He's a cut above the rest, even the ones that mercilessly hunt down Mafioso thugs and let them die."

"Not another magic butler," the other thug groaned.

"And a magic child," the other thug added, "In fancy clothes no less."

"Magic is magic," Thomas said with a smile, "And I am Marquess Thomas Angelus, ruler of the March of Angelus and owner of Angelus Industries; which, I might add, is where you got that prototype automobile phone from."

"We're sorry sir!" the thugs cried suddenly, "Don't turn us into frogs or nothin', we were just doin' our jobs."

"Yeah, the boss stole your prototype phones," the first thug said.

"Relax you two," Thomas said, "The Phantomhive butler destroyed the phone, not you."

"You saw that? Why didn't you help us out, sir?" the second thug asked.

"Because I'm currently under orders not to engage that creature in combat, but you're alive and that's what matters," Thomas said, hopping up onto the hood of the car and sitting there with a friendly smile on his face. "So," he began, "What're your names?"

"James, sir," the first thug replied.

"Edward," the second thug replied.

"Well then James, Edward, I can give you two choices," Thomas said, "Choice one; you guys cease all criminal activity, get a job, and become honest men. Choice two; I can bring you right to Scotland Yard where I'm sure they'll be happy to lock you up for a while. Assisting in the kidnap of a member of the aristocracy, no matter how young and bratty is still a pretty hefty crime."

"We'll work, we'll do anything," James said, "Just don't send us to jail."

"Okay!" Thomas said, hopping off the hood of the car. "My butler can send you anywhere you want. How about Canada? Far from Europe and all its problems, a bright, fresh new world. Plus we have a branch there focused on researching farming equipment, and from what I can see in your minds, you two were both farmers who lost your land."

"How did you-?" Edward started.

"Are you really surprised mate? After all we've seen today," James said. "Yes, we'll go to Canada. I've heard good things."

"Canada it is! Basil, if you would be so kind," Thomas said, gesturing to his butler. Basil bowed and opened a portal of light, shining in the middle of the woods. "Oh, and I should give you these," Thomas added, slipping a couple bank notes into their pockets, "Just a little parting gift. No go over there, and be brilliant, I know you can do it."

"Y-you mean that?" James said.

"Of course," Thomas replied cheerily, "Now go on." With that the two men stepped through the portal and seconds later it closed, leaving them in Halifax, Nova Scotia. Thomas was beaming as he stepped through a second portal that Basil made, this one leading back to London. "Those two will go to work at our Canadian division, and they'll lend their farming expertise, of which they have lots, to the invention of countless farming gadgets. They might not go down in history books, but they'll do their part and all will end well for them," the young noble explained cheerily, "All in all a very awesome ending to what could have been another tragedy. Doesn't that just make you feel good? Knowing you've done something helpful?"

"Yes master, it is a great feeling," Basil said. They'd returned to the spot near where they'd left, and made their way back to the gypsy camp, to find that most of them were returning to their trailers. It was starting to get dark after all, and after a long day of setting up, they all wanted to turn in.

"Syeira!" Thomas called out, seeing the gypsy girl heading towards her trailer, carrying a box of the artifacts.

"Marquess!" she said brightly.

"My apologies for running off, but I had to deal with something."

"It's okay, the Great Mage of London must have plenty of things to deal with."

"I can still help identify artifacts for Madame Electra," Thomas offered.

"Thanks, but we have to pack them away for the night. Grandma Electra-"

"She's your grandmother?" Basil asked with surprise.

"You couldn't tell?" Thomas asked his butler.

"I'm afraid humans all still look rather the same to me," Basil confessed.

"Anyways," Syeira said, "Yes, Grandma Electra has a chest she keeps all these things in; it's the one thing she knows is magical." She led them inside her trailer, which Thomas was surprised to find was fairly spacious. There were two beds, small baskets with clothes and various belongings, and at the end of the trailer was a large, wooden chest.

"Yes, that is a magical chest," Thomas said, feeling the magic power radiating from it. It was designed to only open for the owner and anyone the owner authorized to open it. "It had to have been made for your grandma then," he said, "But the charm protecting it isn't particularly strong."

"What do you mean?" Syeira asked. Thomas touched the chest with a glowing hand and it opened at his touch.

"It wouldn't protect anything in it from a strongly skilled thief," Thomas concluded, taking the box of artifacts from Syeira and placed them in the chest gently. "See the enchantment is only on the lock itself, but it doesn't take a strong mage to break that kind of enchantment." Once he'd finished putting the items into the chest he closed it and added his own enchantment to the box, a series of glowing white runes appearing around the rim that vanished when he finished casting. "There, that's much stronger."

"Thank you," Syeira said, "Will grandmother still be able to open it?"

"Oh yes," Thomas said with a smile. "So shall I help you tomorrow then?"

"Yes, that would be nice," Syeira replied, "Oh and before I forget; we're setting up the Midsummer Festival and if you would like to help, then you can come by."

"Of course," Thomas said cheerfully, "Goodnight Syeira."

He turned to leave, but Syeira called out; "Thomas, er, I mean Marquess," she said.

"Yes?" Thomas replied, turning back to her.

"I... goodnight to you too my lord," she said shyly. Thomas tipped his hat and then he and Basil strode from the trailer and began making their way back to where they'd parked. Despite his failure to save the convict, rescuing the thugs and helping them start a new life was a victory and made him feel like he had a one for one. And as his father had always told him; focus on the positive, not the negative.

"What shall I make for supper, master?" Basil asked as he drove them back.

"You know I'll eat anything," Thomas said, "But I would kind of like Irish stew, and some roast pork, then the other courses you can surprise me."

"As you wish master. I forget how much you can eat."

"Magic uses lots of energy," Thomas said. And he always needed every bit of energy he could get.

When they arrived at home Basil took his master's hat and cloak and hung them up and then went to get supper ready. Thomas meanwhile greeted the rest of his staff with his usual cheer and good nature. "Oh my lord," Azrael said shortly after Thomas passed by him, "I was wondering what you would have us do for your birthday?"

"My birthday's coming up?" Thomas asked with surprise.

"My lord, today's date is June eighteenth, your birthday is in five days. You must have a plan of some kind for this year," Azrael said, surprised at his master's forgetfulness.

"I can't believe I forgot," Thomas said, "Then set up the usual ball. I think we should have a New World theme, celebrate our future across the ocean; the mighty United States of America and the ever friendly Dominion of Canada. Invite the usual people, and remember not to invite Phantomhive, I don't want his filthy butler dirtying my mansion with his demonic filth."

"As you wish my lord," Azrael said and continued on his way. Thomas was glad to hear it, in some ways, and in some ways it made his heart sank. After all it was early on June twenty-third, his birthday, when his home had been attacked and his parents killed. It was the beginning of the darkest months of his life.

However his father had always told him: "Thomas, no matter how bad things get, no matter how upset you feel, remember to fight those feelings and to stay strong. Reach out to others to help you, extend kindness to them and you will get some in return."

"Because you should do whatever you can to stop bad things from happening to others," Thomas mused to himself as he opened the door to his study. Every year since the loss of his parents he made a special effort to help ten different people to commemorate the occasion.

He sighed and grabbed one of his magic books from the shelf and flipped through it. There was something he wanted to do later and he had to prepare for it. "It's easy to be strong and kind, but it's not easy being alone," he said to himself quietly. It was true that Basil was everything to him, from friend to father, but he wasn't human, or even mortal, and Thomas wasn't always sure Basil could completely relate to him. Besides, Thomas wanted someone his own age to talk to.

"That's where Ciel comes in," Thomas said to himself, "He's the only one who would understand." But maybe he wouldn't, Thomas had been through worse than just the loss of his parents, and maybe Ciel wouldn't know what that was like. All he could do was try to save him and see what happened.

Regardless of this he had plenty of other things to occupy his mind. There was the Midsummer Festival of course, and his birthday, plus the hunt for Spring-Heeled Jack, and of course he wanted to inspect the old mansion he'd seen earlier. To be honest he wasn't sure which to pursue first. True he was ordered to investigate Spring-Heels, but he was always willing to take on missions of his own invention. In addition he wanted Jack the Ripper out of the way before he pursued Spring-Heel. That left the mansion. "I'll have to get Basil to arrange a meeting," he muttered, leaning back in his chair.

"A box with a screen that could project images, that could be something to get the tech guys working on," he mused to himself, just relaxing and thinking, and reading of course. It was always interesting going through his magic books, not to mention that he technically had to. As accomplished a mage as he was, he still had magic studies, he just merged it with looking up specific spells.

There was a knock at the door that interrupted his thoughts. "Come in," he said. It was Azrael, wearing a smile on his face beneath his moustache.

"Master Thomas, you just received this," the steward said, holding up a small parcel.

"Oh," Thomas uttered in surprise. He wasn't expecting a package, nor was it usual for mail to be delivered this late. He had Azrael put it on the desk and quickly opened it to see it held a strange metal disk about the size of his palm, with a dark blue gem in the middle.

The young marquess felt fear sink in like a chill as he realized what the device was. Every part of him wanted to run, or throw the disk out the window, or even smash it, but he found himself unable to do any of these things as the gem began to glow and in a bright column of energy there appeared a hovering steel ball.

This ball was round, about the size of a human head, and had a glowing red light on the front, with a pair of small, spindly metal arms slightly below the light, but folded against its body. Despite their position there were two very visible and very lethal blades attached to the ends. The eye glowed and projected an image from it, the image of a tall figure garbed in a cowl, cloak and hood.

At the sight of this figure Thomas felt sheer terror grip his body and fell out of his chair as he scrambled backwards, while Azrael seemed rather unsure of what to do. Thomas scrambled against the wall and closed his eyes, holding his head in his hands as terrible memories returned to him as though they were fresh; the cuts, the pain, the sinister tools, shocks, all manner of terrible torturous instruments.

"Good, you remember me," a rasping, harsh voice said, coming from the floating robot, though it was only being transmitted. The speaker was the one behind the robot, the one controlling it and whose image it was projecting.

"Go away! Go away!" Thomas shouted.

"Your time is running out boy. You ran away, but I was not yet finished. You were so promising too. And you will show your promise to me again. When your time runs out, I will come to collect, and not even your angel friend will be able to stop me." With that the projection vanished and the robot dropped to the ground.

Thomas quickly grabbed something from one of his desk's drawers, something revealed to be a strange sort of gun, and fired it at the robot. A bolt of energy shot out and when the robot was struck it exploded and collapsed into ash and burnt metal. Thomas stood there breathing heavily, still gripped in fear but what had just transpired. "Master?" Azrael asked.

"Clean that up," Thomas ordered, sounding uncharacteristically harsh. "Now!" he finished, sending Azrael running to get the maid. Meanwhile Thomas collapsed to the ground and trembled in a sitting fetal position, though with his hands on his head as he tried to block the memories. He was sweating heavily, breathing heavily; he could feel his heart pounding so fast he thought it might burst. Every inch of him was trembling and he was sure he was just going to go insane. He was crying and he wanted the memories to stop.

Then to his surprise he felt a comforting hand on his back, and a calming warmth that spread from his neck, the spot where the seal of his contract with Basil was. "It's okay my lord," Basil said, giving the boy a fatherly hug. It reminded Thomas of his father, and he felt himself beginning to calm down already.

"Basil..." Thomas muttered. "The... that guy, he contacted me. He said..."

"I know, I can sense your distress," Basil said, "Remember our contract?"

"An Angelic Contract," Thomas said, "To you I swear to help, protect, and love until such time as we decide to part ways," he recited.

"I, as your angel will promise to help, protect, serve and love until such time as we decide to part ways," Basil finished. "My Lord, no matter what that Dark One says, I will be here by your side for as long as you wish to have me. I will protect you against anything, and we've proven time and again that when you and I work together, we can accomplish anything at all."

Thomas nodded and felt the cross mark on the back of his neck, the seal of their contract. It bound them both together and Basil was right, they were there for each other. It helped, and for a time he and Basil sat there while he let the fear subside and calmed down. Mary came in and cleaned up the burnt robot in that time, and left again.

At last Thomas took a final deep breath and got to his feet, feeling more or less normal again. He also felt hungry, extremely hungry. "Is supper ready?" he asked, to which Basil chuckled.

"Yes my lord, supper is about to begin."

"Good," Thomas said. He noticed as he left the room that the carpet was clean as well, and he had to hand it to Mary; she really knew how to clean. With Basil he descended to the dining room and took his seat at his chair. "I hope there's some good dessert at the end," he added as Basil brought him his soup.

"Yes, of course master."

Whether it was comforting him, being his servant, or being his friend, Thomas was always glad to have Basil around, and now he was happier than ever. Thomas thought about the contract and smiled. 'I don't ever want to end it,' he thought to himself happily, and then began to eat.


	4. Episode 1 Part 4

**Episode 1 – Part 4**

When Thomas had finished eating he, at his staff's insistence, went to his library instead of helping them with the dishes. "I'm happy to pay them for just being here," he muttered to himself as he sat down on his favourite, extremely soft and plush chair, with his magic book in hand. "Don't see why people would protest to being helped with their jobs," he added as he began reading.

His interest was teleportation, an ability he'd never been confident enough to attempt, but he wanted to try. Basic level teleportation required a spell circle, something else Thomas wasn't particularly skilled with. His spells were either runic, will or incantation based, but a spell circle mixed all three and it was something he wasn't good at doing. So he was reading reference on spell circle creation before attempting his teleportation spell.

After about an hour of further reading, and some tea brought by Basil, Thomas felt confident enough to begin. He pulled a satchel of arcane dust, a residue gathered from arcane phenomena that was used for spell circles, and laid it down on a spot right there in the library, tracing out the circle from the book. A teleportation spell circle.

Fifteen minutes later the runic circle was laid out, shimmering white-blue with a light of its own. Thomas picked up his book and moved to the center of the circle, focused on the location he wanted to go; the headquarters of the Order of Light. He kept his focus and said the incantation, occasionally looking at the book in his hand to make sure he was saying it right.

Thomas was nearing the end of the incantation, raising his voice a little as he neared its end. He shifted his position a little and went to change his footing, only for him to lose his balance just as he said the last word. His loss of balance caused him to kick a part of the circle, sending the dust flying, causing him to lose his focus, and in a flash of green light the library was gone.

The location Thomas ended up in though wasn't the one he'd expected. Instead of the ivory and gold halls of the Citadel of Light, he was in a bedroom with drawn curtains and the lights off. It was a large bedroom, and so therefore the bedroom of a mansion, a fact that made him uneasy because he wouldn't want to explain his presence to someone unfamiliar with magic. It didn't look like Buckingham though, something he was even gladder of, he'd heard that Queen Victoria wasn't fond of magic.

The room was red in colour, with a large, wide bed with plum blankets, rather than the canopied one he had. 'Well, detachable canopy,' Thomas thought to himself proudly. It was just another invention of his. Sitting in the bed was a boy in a nightshirt, about the same age as himself, who was quickly reaching to turn on his bedside lamp. It turned on to show Thomas the boy was indeed his age, with rather long blond hair and pale blue eyes. He was a slim boy, but had a certain athleticism to him that was atypical of most noble kids, himself excluded of course.

"What the hell?" the boy muttered, "How did you get in here?"

Thomas grinned sheepishly, "Well... you're dreaming! Yeah, you're just dreaming," he said quickly. 'What that kid's name?' he thought, trying to cast a mind reading spell and divert attention at the same time.

"I don't think I am," the boy said, getting out of the bed. "I'm bloody damn sure I just saw you appear out of nowhere. And I know how to make people disappear, so you better start talking."

Thomas was backing away, as the boy advanced. Sure he could handle a single human boy, but he wasn't going to get into an unnecessary fight. Thomas was probing the boy's mind now, looking for the name. Oddly he found two. There was one name, Jim Macken, and then another; Alois Trancy. He'd never really heard of either of them, and one of the names was false. Alois seemed the most frequently used one in his recent memories though. "You're having a dream Alois, that's all," Thomas said.

"How do you know my name?" Alois asked, beginning to sound even angrier.

"Because you're dreaming," Thomas replied, "Think about it; a stranger appears in your room who knows your name. That can only mean that you're asleep and dreaming." In response to this Alois pinched himself before continuing.

"Nope, not asleep, now talk!" Alois yelled. In the brief instant when Alois spoke, Thomas saw something on the boy's tongue; the kind of something that made a fire burn in Thomas' soul.

"Show me your tongue," Thomas commanded suddenly, making the other boy stop advancing at the sudden change in tone.

"No," Alois said.

In a flash Thomas held Vakha in his hand, and pointed it at Alois, the blade shimmering with light. "I said show me your tongue," Thomas ordered again, Alois ceasing his advance completely, stepping back instead and beginning to look afraid. "If you have nothing to hide, then you have nothing to fear," Thomas added.

In response Alois stuck out his tongue, revealing a black mark on it, the very mark Thomas had thought he'd seen. "There, happy?" Alois asked, though the anger was gone from his voice entirely and replaced with fear and, to Thomas' confusion, a hint of something that sounded almost like joy.

"Not at all," Thomas spat. "A vile consorter with demons," he hissed, the fires rising again within him, Vakha responding to his anger by blowing with red-orange light. Now Thomas saw that night clear as day, demons and their summoners slaughtering his family, his friends, innocents, anyone they could reach. "I'll destroy you all!" he cried furiously, charging at Alois with blade at the ready.

Alois ran at the last second, losing a few strands of hair as the blade just barely missed cleaving him in two. He was speaking, but Thomas wasn't listening, the rage was blocking his hearing. Thomas didn't care; he would see Alois' blood run across the floor and watch with glee as his soul was dragged into Hell to suffer.

He charged at Alois again, the other boy outright running, hurrying out the door and closing it tight behind him. Thomas thrust Vakha through the wood, and through the hole it made he saw that it had barely missed removing Alois' ear. "You won't accept your punishment?" Thomas asked, hacking away at the door furiously. "I'll hunt you and your servant down until I see you burning in the flames of Hell where you both belong!"

"It has nothing to do with you! I don't even know you!" Alois shouted from the other side, backing against the wall on the far side. Thomas didn't know why the other boy wasn't running yet, but he didn't care. He kicked the door and it broke off its hinges, setting Alois running again, while Thomas pursued.

"Run all you want coward!" Thomas yelled, gaining on the boy easily. Behind the rage clouding his mind he found himself blessing the outcome of the experiments done on him.

Thomas thrust his arm out and a bolt of flame flew out, striking Alois in the back and sending him hurtling down the stairs he'd come to. Thomas followed quickly down the stairs into another hallway perpendicular to the one they'd been in. Alois was laying face down and his head had a lump on it. Thomas reached down and grabbed Alois by the back of his nightshirt and hoisted him up before hurling him against the nearest wall. "St-stop," Alois muttered as Thomas once again slammed him against the wall.

"Why should I?" Thomas spat, holding his hand tight at Alois' throat. "Did your kind stop when my family were broken and defeated? Did your evil machinations stop when the blood of innocents stained the grass? Do you pathetic, evil worms stop as you use your demons to slaughter anyone who comes your way?" Alois' eyes were filled with fear, and Thomas loved the sight. A cruel, arrogant demon summoner reduced to a terrified wreck.

"Claude! Help me please!" Alois cried out.

"Yes, bring your demon," Thomas spat, driving his knee into Alois' stomach and winding him, making him collapse to the ground where the mage viciously kicked the boy's head. "Bring your demon to your aid. I will destroy it and kill you." Thomas gave Alois another sharp kick to the head and knocked him unconscious.

There was a rushing sound and Thomas stepped back in time to avoid a strong punch aimed where his head had been. The strike came from a tall, black haired man in a black suit. Red eyes glowed in his face, with square-framed glasses perched on his nose. Thomas grinned viciously. Like clockwork the monster had appeared to attend to it master's orders. "Who are you? Why are you here?" the man, Claude, asked, his voice devoid of emotion.

"To destroy the summoner and his trained dog," Thomas spat, thrusting Vakha forwards. Claude, surprised at the sudden speed the mortal demonstrated, took too long to move and the sword pierced his forearm. To Claude's further surprise the wound hurt, really hurt, it stung and burned. "Surprised are you," Thomas asked, swiping at the demon again and again, not bothering to alter his tactic despite its lack of results. It kept the demon on the defensive, and that's all he cared about; hurting it, scaring it, making it suffer. "This blade is holy, so fight for your life monster, because you are."

Claude backflipped away from the flurry of blade attacks and grabbed a spear from a suit of armour nearby, something that registered in the back of Thomas' mind as almost humorously convenient. He and Claude clashed, spear to sword, and although Claude had an advantage in speed in strength, he was limited in his current mortal form.

Thomas meanwhile was a furious avenger, a whirlwind of light and fury and holy flame, he struck with such passion and strength that Claude once again found himself resorting to defensive manoeuvres. "Exorcism!" Thomas cried, twin streams of light shot from his palm, twisting around each other until they struck Claude, just as he finished dodging.

The demon cried out in pain as the light seared his flesh and Thomas quickly closed in and pierced the demon's shoulder with Vakha, pinning Claude to the floor where he'd collapsed, his glasses broken. Thomas pushed down with his foot on the demon's throat, enjoying the sound of it gurgling. "How does that feel? Do you feel the pain of this blade? Does it burn? What about my slow crushing of your windpipe? This is how those innocent people felt, but what would a demon know? Your kind are beyond love and kindness. Why else did the Council of Heaven banish you to the pits of Hell?"

"Leas top!" Claude gurgled. In response Thomas blasted him with light, a spell called Holy Shock. The demon screamed, or gargled, in pain again as his unholy flesh was burned once more. His false red blood turned black as it seeped out of the wound that Vakha created.

"Why should I stop?" Thomas asked darkly, "When do demons stop torturing and killing? The only reason you respond to summoners is your own selfish reasons." With another wave of his hand four daggers of light appeared, two piercing Claude's wrists and two piercing the demon's ankles. And again the demon squirmed in pain.

"Ah'll brak co-track wis... boy," Claude managed to gargle out as Thomas pushed harder and harder on his neck. "Mayk un wis you," the demon finished. At this Thomas pushed down so hard on Claude's neck that he ceased being able to breathe. Thomas waited until he was blue in the face before relenting ever so slightly.

"Trying to save your own skin, how typical," Thomas spat. "At any rate, I think we've had enough, it's time to end your pathetic life." Thomas grinned savagely and withdrew Vakha from Claude's shoulder, but kept his foot firmly planted on the demon's throat. He pointed the sword at Claude's chest and thrust downwards.

"Stop!" a voice cried and a pair of arms wrapped around Thomas; warm, comforting arms that he knew all too well. They stopped his strike and it went wide, piercing Claude's other shoulder instead.

"Basil!" Thomas cried furiously, "Let me go! Why are you preventing this!"

"Master! Get a hold of yourself," Basil said sternly as Thomas struggled, clawed, bit and wrestled in every attempt to get away.

"I won't be denied!" Thomas yelled, firing bolts of light at Claude, but Basil forced his arm upwards so the spell flew down the hall and dissipated harmlessly.

"What is an angel doing here?" Claude asked, staggering to his feet. Basil shifted the still struggling Thomas to one arm and flew towards Claude, striking him hard in the head with a glowing fist of light. The demonic butler staggered around for a second before collapsing to the floor; knocked completely unconscious.

"Excellent!" Thomas cried, "Now let me kill him! Let me see his black blood run across this floor! I'll destroy every one of them for what they did!"

"Stop it master!" Basil said, his voice still stern and beginning to become strict. "Do not make me sedate you."

"I won't be denied! These monsters have to die! And I will see to it!" Thomas yelled

"Master! St. Germaine came to me. These two you've found, they are important to time," Basil explained, still firmly holding his struggling charge.

"Time can be re-written!" Thomas protested, still attempting magic strikes on the unconscious demon.

"Not always, and you know that. They're fixed; St. Germaine wanted me to stop you before you damaged the timeline."

"It would be worth it," Thomas hissed savagely. At this response Basil pressed a glowing finger into the boy's temple and immediately Thomas felt a calming warmth spread through his body. The rage died down and the fire burning in his soul vanished. He stopped struggling and he felt his mind clear.

"I always have to sedate you when you get like this," Basil said, letting Thomas go. The boy stumbled forwards and let out a deep sigh, feeling tired and worn out.

"I... I almost wounded time," Thomas muttered, looking at the beaten body of Claude, then turned his attention back to Alois. He wandered over to the boy and knelt down next to him, placing a hand gently on his cheek. "I'm sorry," he said sadly, "Someone as young as you shouldn't become a summoner."

Thomas moved Alois so that he was leaning against the wall, his head on his shoulder. "You're very handsome Alois, and I hope you don't let this path end you before you can grow into your looks." To his own surprise, and Basil's, Thomas kissed the boy on the forehead lightly, and then stepped back to stand beside his butler. "I didn't even mean to come here Basil," Thomas said, Vakha in his hands again and returned to cane form. "I meant to go to the Citadel of Light; I was practicing to get inside that old mansion. Instead I tripped and messed up the spell."

"Why didn't you just have me?"

"There is no light in that mansion," Thomas explained simply, "Your portal abilities aren't going to work there."

"I see. Well then, are you ready to go?"

"Yes," Thomas said his voice still sombre. "I need to sleep." With that Basil took his master's hand and the two vanished, leaving the Trancy household's battered inhabitants in peace.

They arrived in Thomas' bedroom, where he quickly changed into his own nightshirt while Basil took the discarded clothes to be washed. He waited while Thomas climbed into bed and smiled. "Good night master," he said kindly.

"Good night Basil. And thank you for stopping me... and for everything you've done today. You cheered me up, you calmed me down, you saved two people, and I'm as glad as ever to have you in my life," Thomas said.

"As am I. Every day is an adventure with you, and I'm glad to be a part of it."

"You're one heavenly butler," Thomas said with a grin.

"Very clever master," Basil said with a chuckle, "Sleep well." With that the angel shut the door and Thomas was asleep in minutes.

((((((((()))))))))

_Note: Shorter than usual, but I'm reformatting the story into episodes uploaded in parts to increase upload rate. This is the end of the first episode._


	5. Episode 2 Part 1

**Episode 2**

**Part 1**

Thomas went through his normal morning routine while Basil arranged the meeting with Lord Smith and then went for a walk in his garden. "Master," Raphael said, working on weeding the flower beds. June meant summer, and that meant Raphael had plenty to do keeping the grounds clean and presentable and preventing overgrowth. The mansion was built on a hill and the grounds, besides some paths leading through flower beds and mowed grass, was largely untouched. The only thing separating the grounds from the surrounding woods was a low wall built around the property's perimeter, which, considering its owner's wealth was some distance from the house itself.

Raphael himself was actually rather young for a servant, being barely seventeen, and yet looked a little younger. His hair was chestnut brown and trimmed short, and he had brown eyes. He wore a simple white shirt and light brown trousers and work boots. He rarely wore his jacket due to working in the dirt. "Yes Raphael?" Thomas said.

"Have you abandoned the Spring-Heeled Jack case? I noticed neither you nor Basil seemed to investigate it much yesterday," Raphael said.

"Observant as always," Thomas said cheerfully, "Well I have not abandoned it so much as placed it off to the side for a time. There are other things that have piqued my interest more, like Lord Smith."

"Oh. Um... master, out of curiosity, what's it like seeing all of time at once?"

Thomas frowned as he thought of how to describe the sensation. It was something unimaginable and when it had first started after one of the experiments, he remembered feeling like his brain would explode. "It is difficult to describe," Thomas said at last, "Imagine seeing hundreds of different pictures flashing through your mind in a single second, all of them completely different, some of them of things that you couldn't imagine will exist."

"How do you handle it?" Raphael asked.

"I've learned to get used to it," Thomas said. "Oh would you perhaps like to join myself and Basil in helping to set up the Midsummer Festival?"

"Master you know we'd do anything to help you," Raphael said.

"I know, but I still need to ask," Thomas replied, smiling to punctuate his point, "Anyways I best get back inside. You're doing a great job as always."

"Thank you master," Raphael replied, enjoying the compliment, "Oh, my lord is there anything special you would like me to do with the grounds for your birthday?"

"Oh, um, surprise me," Thomas said before wandering off towards the house. Raphael was often quiet, but also quite observant and Thomas thought he'd have been better off a detective than a gardener, but he enjoyed his presence nonetheless. On the flipside Raphael's brother, Uriel, was rather talkative and Thomas found himself often pulled into interesting conversations with the cook. Uriel was also an incredibly good cook for someone so young, Thomas thought so anyways.

Uriel was observant in the kitchen and paid attention to detail, but outside his job he was often easily tricked visually. What Uriel lacked in observation he made up for with a mind for puzzles, being able to think logically and creatively at the same time. The two twins together were almost as helpful to Thomas in the field as Basil.

His steward Azrael was old, definitely, and had served as his parents' butler. When Basil arrived, Azrael was glad to retire and let the angel take up the role of butler. Azrael was still spry and strong for his age, and was usually Thomas' swordplay teacher. The old man was also a font of wisdom, though he could be cryptic. Even Basil, who was at least a thousand years old, was impressed with Azrael's wisdom.

Then there was Mary, his maid, with her somewhat blue-looking hair and matching eyes. Thomas thought she was pretty, though she was also his elder by about five years, putting her at the same age as the twins. As he thought about her he remembered yelling at her the night before and immediately felt bad about it. So he made finding her his next objective.

Thomas found her cleaning the parlour and making sure everything would be ready for his birthday. As a noble it was customary for him to have a large ball for the occasion, and his small team of staff worked feverishly to prepare. She was just finishing waxing a table when he entered. "Master!" she cried, jumping and dropping into a curtsey, "My apologies my lord, I didn't see you."

"That's perfectly fine Mary," Thomas said with a smile, "I just wanted to speak with you about my behaviour last night."

"Oh, it's no big deal. We all lose our temper now and then," Mary assured.

"Nonetheless when all is said and done one must apologize for such outbursts. It's the proper thing to do and I wouldn't be a gentleman, or good master, if I didn't do so," Thomas explained, "I'm deeply sorry for my outburst last night Mary. I was dealing with some painful memories."

"I forgive you my lord," Mary said politely, "Basil filled me in on the details."

"I... would prefer not to talk about it," Thomas said sombrely. "Anyways," he added, his voice cheery again, "I'll see you later Mary. Oh and if you would like to come into town later and help set up the Midsummer Festival, you're more than welcome to."

"I'll keep that in mind, my lord," Mary said with a smile as Thomas turned and left. He returned to his study after this, remembering that he had work to do. Angelus Industries had recently acquired several small companies, who'd all agreed to join for additional funding. They were the first in a new business idea that his father had begun and Thomas was taking further.

Since his great grandfather founded the company they were committed to science and technology; the developing of new marvels of technological wizardry, and pushing the boundaries of mankind's knowledge of the universe. With the onset of the Industrial Revolution Thomas' father had decided that, since others would soon be competing in their field, they should begin expanding, more so than they already had.

All previous additions to the company had been through partnerships, and eventually absorptions, of other labs and technology developers. Thomas' father had decided that the time had come to expand into other markets, like food and toys. He had died before he could put that into effect, so Thomas had taken it upon himself to take up the flag. There were several very successful farmers that had expressed interest in forming the foundation of Angelus Foods, and Thomas was more than delighted to accept their offer, more so that they were from the New World. The negotiations had been successful, and the company executives felt that in order to be official the documents would best be signed by the company's owner.

Thomas didn't take long to do so. He sat down at his desk and quickly signed each of the papers, then placed them in a single envelope and made sure to use his seal, a ring he wore, to close it. And that was that. There was some more paperwork he had to fill out too, and he quickly got to work on that.

There was the issue of the toy market. He did have a few toymakers express interest in forming the proposed Angelus Toys, but Thomas wasn't entirely sure he wanted to go into there. On the plus side he would love the joy and happiness it would bring to children, and a chance to give arrogant Ciel a corporate slap in the face only made the prospect more tantalizing. On the other hand he had enough respect for the previous Phantomhives that he didn't want to fight their company.

Thomas was just finishing up his work when he heard a knock at the door that could only be Basil. "Come in," he said. As he'd expected, the butler entered the room, and bearing a tray of sandwiches no less. "Aw Basil, you read my mind," Thomas said cheerily.

"Yes. They might be a little anachronistic, but I think that fits you perfectly," Basil said, setting the tray down on Thomas' desk, after he'd made space that is.

"Very true," Thomas said and picked up a cucumber sandwich and took a couple bites before speaking again. "So, any luck getting a hold of Lord Smith?" he asked.

"Somewhat, my lord," Basil said, "I got a hold of his housekeeper, a woman named Mrs. Jones. She said she can arrange a visit any time after the Midsummer Festival, but her master is simply too busy beforehand."

"Sounds like me," Thomas noted, "Well then that will be fine. I don't want to postpone the visit and give whatever's in there more time to grow, but as I would prefer not to break in it seems we have no choice but to wait."

"Master, after you finish your lunch we must get down to the Roma Camp. You did promise to assist them in the setup of the festival," Basil said.

"I know Basil," Thomas said, finishing the second last sandwich. "I've had work to do, and it's just about finished; just a couple more signatures."

"Have you decided on whether you want to break into the toy industry?" Basil asked. Thomas shook his head, and took a few seconds to finish his signatures.

"But with that done we're now officially launching Angelus Foods," he said cheerily, "Now we'll just have to get this to the Board of Directors and then we can go help the gypsies."

"Very good sir," Basil said, helping Thomas place the papers in a large envelope and carry them down to the car, while having Mary clean up the tray; though Thomas offered to help. Both Basil and Mary rejected the idea so Thomas shrugged and didn't argue, he was beginning to learn that it never got him anywhere.

"What exactly is so wrong with me helping you with chores?" Thomas asked as they began to drive.

"Because that's our work, master, we can't very well accept payment from you when you keep performing our tasks."

"Oh," Thomas said, he'd never thought of it like that. He knew he would never accept payment without having done anything. It was one social protocol he made efforts to observe. "I'm sorry, but I still need to help. I can't let a bunch of people just do things for me," Thomas said.

"Why not? You're our master and we love you," Basil said, "We will do anything to help you, just as you will do anything to protect us and everyone, or as the Queen would do anything for her people and they would do anything for her."

"I... I understand, but I love you all and I don't like feeling like I am making you work for me," Thomas said.

"Master, we work for you because we want to, not because we feel we have to," Basil said, "We appreciate the help of course, but there is a difference between helping and doing our jobs for us. Co-operation and teamwork are how any group works, and you should know that more than most. It's nice of you to help, but your main role is being our leader."

Thomas fell silent. He hadn't realized how much his staff cared for him, nor did he ever think about their roles towards each other. To him it always seemed like they were his underlings, except Basil who was of course his friend, and he didn't want them to be his underlings, nor did he want them to feel like they were. He'd never stopped to think about how they felt about the arrangement. "Thank you for explaining that to me Basil," Thomas said after a time, "I'm sorry I never thought about how you felt about the situation. Don't think that will stop me from helping though," he added with a grin.

"Of course master," Basil said with a smile, "Just don't try to do our jobs for us."

"Deal," Thomas agreed. They made it to London and, with some portal assistance from Basil, travelled quickly to the corporate headquarters.

The building in question, Angelus Industries Headquarters, was a rather new one. Once again it was a project Thomas' father had begun, and Thomas had finished. They'd had other buildings as the company headquarters, but this one was far more impressive. It stood twenty-five stories high and was generally square shaped and made of brick, steel and glass, the latter in its numerous windows and the steel supporting the structure.

It was, of course, stylized, primarily at the entrance floor which was surrounded by a columned veranda and utilizing brass and gold in the decoration. At each corner of the building was a smaller tower that was shaped to the corner and at the top was a large light. The lights could shine into the sky as a column of light, and the additional lights across the building had led to it gaining the nickname 'Tower of Light', a name Thomas personally approved of.

The very top of the building was a pyramid-shaped glass roof, under which was also where the Board of Directors met. The room up there was large and had purposely been made to allow new members. Besides the expansion into food and possible expansion into toys, Thomas had another plan for his company that he was saving, though he'd already marginally implemented it.

At any rate he strode into the building and the secretary, a man sitting behind a curved desk, looked like his eyes would pop out of his head at the sight of him. "Please calm down," Thomas laughed. He took off his white top hat and handed it to the man behind the desk, followed by his white cloak. "Here, take care of these," Thomas said, "I can't very well walk around inside with a hat and coat on and still claim to be a gentleman."

"I'll take good care of them My Lord," the secretary said, placing the clothing items in a box behind the desk. Thomas and Basil passed into the halls behind the desk and summoned a lift which they rode up to the Board Room. Once there Basil went ahead to let them know he was there.

"All this procedure just to drop this off," Thomas said with a sigh as he came to the doors.

"Gentlemen of the Board," he heard Basil saying from the other side, "I present Lord Thomas." Thomas entered the room to the ten or so well-dressed gentlemen standing and bowing to him as he strode to the head of the table where an empty chair sat, a chair that was reserved for him when it was necessary for him to be present personally. It was usually Basil who served as Thomas' intermediary, using his speed or teleportation abilities to carry papers back and forth, or simply using a telephone.

"Greetings everyone," Thomas said as he placed the envelope on the table. "Congratulations on the baby Mr. Brown."

"Thank you, my lord," said a man in his thirties with a neat moustache and brown hair.

"What gender?" Thomas asked.

"A boy, sir," Mr. Brown replied, "Named him Oliver."

"I like it," Thomas said, just as cheery as ever. "Anyways, to the Board of Directors I present the signed documents that officially create the Angelus Foods branch of our fine company. I would like to see it help as many people as possible." He grinned and leaned back in his chair. "There's not really too much more of a speech for me to give. But if you have any questions for me; now is the time to ask them."

"Sir, what do you make of Phantomhive?" Mr. Brown asked.

"Spoiled, selfish brat running a masterpiece into the ground," Thomas replied bluntly, "But the company itself is quite good. I still have some Phantomhive brand toys that my mother got for me when I was younger." He really didn't have much time to play with toys before his parents passed away, but his parents always had time set aside from his training for him to just be a kid. There was a train set he had a particular fondness for that was of Phantomhive make.

"Mr. Brown, we are members of the board, not reporters," another man said, "I am sure Lord Angelus would much rather we ask about more relevant issues."

"Everyone asks me that question sooner or later," Thomas said, "I assume it has to do with me being the same age as Ciel. However Mr. Taylor is correct, I would prefer the questions be more relevant."

"The Steam Project," Mr. Taylor said, prompting Thomas to give a strange smile that showed that this was the subject he'd been expecting.

"The what?" Basil said abruptly and with surprise.

"Basil, surely you knew already," Thomas said, but he knew Basil didn't. He was going to tell him, he just hadn't gotten around to it until now. "Well then for the sake of my butler, I shall explain the Steam Project.

"The Steam Project is an idea of my own. It began when I saw the Babbage Machine plans. They made me think of how I might be able to push the boundaries of steam-based technology. We use that engine for ships and trains, but what else is possible with it?

"Think of all those plans Leonardo da Vinci created for technological marvels. If we applied a steam engine they could all be realized. Imagine ships in the sky, powered by steam and carrying us all across the world, flying high in the air. Sentient machines, automatons, things that could perform tasks for humans that would cut human deaths by a huge amount. Steam-powered suits of armour that could prevent soldier losses. Perhaps even vehicles that can travel beyond Earth."

"That... is quite a vision, my lord," Basil said, "Why do you want to contribute to the military though?"

"Yes that was my question," Mr. Taylor added, "These Steam Armours you want developed seem oddly militaristic for you. You want them to have a small gatling gun installed on one of the arms and a hydraulic claw on the other."

"Yes, it's not exactly the peaceful, civilian-helping machines you usually have in mind," Mr. Brown said.

"That is where the automatons come in," Thomas said, "I know the armours seem unconventional for this company, but I have a feeling that there may come a time when they are needed."

"Are you certain, my lord?" Mr. Brown asked.

"Yes, I am. The public doesn't know about it anyways. They won't know about any of it until working versions are completed. Until then we have plenty of other projects and products to keep our income as high as possible, and marketing in the New World has proven an extremely lucrative decision. Are there anymore questions?"

"No, sir," the Board said unanimously.

"Then I bid you gentlemen farewell," Thomas said, getting to his feet and striding from the room, with Basil close in tow. They entered the elevator and waited as it carried them down.

"The true purpose of these Steam Armours is to fight Them isn't it?" Basil asked.

"That is correct," Thomas answered, his tone uncharacteristically serious, "They'll come for me eventually, and I want to be as ready as possible."

"Do you not find it a little deceitful to your employees to have them make these things without telling them why?"

"A little, but I'd rather this be the extent of their involvement. I don't want to put anyone at risk more than they already are," Thomas said, "And if a little deception is the best way to do that, then I will gladly partake."

"I understand." The elevator stopped and the two made their way back to the street, Thomas picking up his hat and cloak along the way.

"Now, enough of this glum, ominous stuff," Thomas said, his cheer back again, "We have to set up a fair.

"Never brought down for too long, are you master?" Basil said, almost cheekily.

"Nope." They made their way to a secluded spot and used one of Basil's portals to travel near to the gypsy camp and from their arrival spot made a short walk to the camp where Syeira warmly greeted them.

"Hello Lord Thomas," Syeira said cheerfully, curtseying, "I'm so glad you could make it."

"I'm glad too," Thomas replied, just as cheerily.

"And you too Basil," Syeira added, curtseying to the butler too.

"It is always a pleasure Miss Syeira."

"Grandma is setting up her mystic items tent," Syeira said, "Are you still willing to identify objects for her?"

"Of course," Thomas replied, "And Basil's always ready to do some heavy-lifting."

"There's a stage that needs setting up," Syeira suggested after a moment.

"There ya go Basil," said Thomas, "Help set up the stage."

"As you wish master," Basil said and moved off across the park to where the beginnings of a stage were laid down. Thomas smiled at Syeira and followed her to a brightly coloured tent set up beside the fortune-telling one. The chest, the one he'd re-locked, was sitting in the tent, behind a long table and in front of a row of shelves. With a whisk of his hand the locking spell vanished and he opened the chest to sort through the objects within.

"Most of these are fine," Thomas said, taking a seat in one of the folding chairs that was set up behind the table. Many of the objects in the chest were harmless trinkets that he handed to Syeira, which she then proceeded to set up on the table and shelves. The occasional genuine magical objects Thomas came across were very weak in mystic power and it seemed their enchantments were almost at an end. He set them aside to bring home and disenchant.

"So, my lord, how is it you came to be the head of your household at so young?" Syeira asked.

"How else does one achieve a hereditary position?" Thomas asked distractedly while he examined a puzzle box that, while fascinating to him, was not magical.

"Oh... I'm sorry, I just wondered if perhaps... well I don't know what I was wondering," Syeira stuttered.

"It's okay, you were curious," Thomas said, "Things happened, bad things, but when they ended I was left to pick up the pieces of my family's name and I have." His fingers finished working their way around the puzzle box and he opened it to reveal it was empty, "As empty as Ciel's head, but fun to solve."

"We've been waiting for someone to solve that! How did you do it so quickly?" Syeira asked, putting the box on the table.

"I'm very good," Thomas boasted cheekily, "So what about you Syeira? Gypsies always have interesting stories."

"Oh... well not much really. My parents travel with a different caravan and we meet up every now and then, sometimes I'll switch caravans to travel with them. I've seen a little magic, but I can't really think of any stories," Syeira explained.

"I'm sure you'll think of something. Travelling always creates interesting stories."

They fell into silence for a time as they continued to set up and work. "Does it get lonely?" Syeira asked at last.

"Does what get lonely?" Thomas asked, re-sorting the pile of magic objects next to him.

"Being without parents."

Thomas stopped and sighed. He hated when he was forced to think of things that made him upset and brought him down, but he didn't want to be impolite to the gypsy girl either. "Yes it does," Thomas replied sombrely, "I wake up every day remembering that my mother and father will never again greet me when I come down. My children will never have grandparents. And I no longer have anyone who shares my blood still on this plane. Yes, it does get lonely." Thomas bit his lip as he tried to banish and suppress these upsetting thoughts and memories. He didn't like to remember them, they were too depressing. "But I have Basil," he said, forcing himself to cheer up, "And I wouldn't give him up for anything."

"I see," Syeira replied, "Grandma told me there were two other boys in London like you. She said their names were, um, Ciel and Alois I think."

"Alois is_ not_ like me," Thomas spat abruptly, and once again he had to take a moment to get his emotions under control. The very thought of the blond boy made his blood boil. Rage and hatred threatened to consume him and it took several deep breaths to calm himself down. "No, that Alois is not like me at all. Ciel is- what's this?" added Thomas as he pulled from the very bottom of the chest a large opal.

The opal was about the same size and shape as a chicken egg and like any opal it shimmered with many different colours, this one seeming to shine with every colour imaginable. It was very beautiful and both Thomas and Syeira were entranced by it. Yet there was something off about its colours, a strange oily sheen that seemed to lurk under the surface. Almost immediately Thomas could sense a far stronger mystical presence than anything else in the chest.

"I would put that down if I were you," said a voice from the corner of the tent. From the shadows came one of the oldest men that Thomas had ever seen. He was wrinkled and frail to the point he looked more like a dried corpse than a human. He wore a pitch black suit and cloak and clutched a cane as he stumped forwards, the shadows seeming to swirl around him and bend to his whim.

"Why would I do that?" Thomas asked, putting himself on guard, but remaining passive.

"Because that object is extremely dangerous to a mortal, especially a mage like yourself." The old man's voice was rather emotionless and hollow sounding and he spoke with a cold tone stating simple facts, and showing little concern for Thomas himself.

"How do you know that? Who are you?" Thomas asked.

"Draw the curtains around the tent," the old man said. Syeira quickly obliged, the tent having been designed to be closed up in case of rain.

When they were all drawn she returned to Thomas' side. The old man grinned, showing bone-white teeth and the shadows swirled up and around him. He gained height, lost his hunch, and his clothes changed, while the cane lengthened into a staff, or perhaps... when Thomas saw the shape the staff took he knew who was standing before him.

A six and a half foot tall skeletal figure floated amidst a cloud of shadows in front of him, garbed in a black cowl with tears at the hems and the hood drawn up over his head, or rather clean white skull. The expression on his skinless face was unreadable, but seemed to be a permanent grin, with dull lights shining in the empty eye sockets. The air around them seemed colder and the dark figure clutched a shaft of petrified wood with a curved, cruel blade curving out from near its top; a dark scythe that had cleaved a million bodies to extract their souls and carry them across the abyss of death.

Thomas gasped and said in awe; "Elder Thanos, the oldest of the Reapers."


	6. Episode 2 Part 2

**Episode 2**

**Part 2**

"Elder Thanos?" Syeira asked, sounding less frightened than Thomas had expected.

"The organization and species known as the Reapers, they shepherd the souls of the dead to the afterlife," Thomas explained, "They are all derived from the eldest and greatest of them, he who is known as the Grim Reaper; Elder Thanos."

"You know me quite well then," Elder Thanos said, his voice cold, hollow and uncaring. It grated like a cough and made chills run up Thomas' spine. "Then you will listen to me when I tell you to put that gem down, or my visit here will become a job."

Thomas put the gem down on the nearby table and gazed at it intently for a moment before turning back to Thanos. "It's... what is this doing here!" he snapped.

"What is it?" Syeira asked.

"A prison," Thomas said, "It's a magical prison, a soulstone, made to hold a dangerous mystical being."

"Precisely. As you may or may not know as the Elder I am no longer in active reaper duty. Instead I watch the Vault and ensure the horrors there remain sealed."

"And yet clearly you were sloppy as one of the horrors is very close to escaping," Thomas criticized.

"Watch your tongue boy," Thanos spat, though Thomas detected a hint of something akin to embarrassment in the reaper's voice.

"So which prisoner is this?" Thomas asked, gazing at the opal again.

"Its mortal name is Wizard's Bane, a creature who feeds on mana, primarily the mana found within mortals who have connected with it; which puts you, boy, at extreme risk."

"And yet it would seem it prevents you from taking it back," Thomas said.

"It would not be able to feed on me; however the touch of an immortal being could very well break its prison."

"Yes of course, if someone stole the thing then that would be a clever way to prevent it from being returned," Thomas said, "And yet we cannot stand around here all day examining it. If I cannot carry it, and you cannot, then-"

"Then I'll carry it," Syeira interrupted.

"No, that's too dangerous," Thomas responded as Thanos returned to his human form.

"I don't care. I travel across dangerous places all the time," Syeira protested, "You need someone to carry it who isn't magical, and I'm not magical."

"Then clearly you are the correct person to handle the object," Thanos croaked. Before Thomas could protest further, Syeira scooped up the gem and dropped it in her pocket.

"Fine," Thomas conceded. "Oh and by the by Elder, there's a reaper running amok here in London posed as a rich lady's butler."

"Yes I know. His name is Grell I believe; young, stupid, and not worth my time. The main organization will deal with him in due time."

"Agreed," Thomas said as Syeira pulled back the drapes around the tent. Thomas meanwhile pressed his finger against something on his neck, which only he knew to be a winged cross that was the mark of his pact with Basil. Within seconds the butler was standing in front of him.

"You summoned me master?" Basil asked.

"Yes," Thomas said, picking up the pile of enchanted objects, "I want you to take these home and put them in the disenchantment room, then come meet up with me."

"Um," Basil stuttered, gazing at Thanos whose wrinkled face broke into a grin, though it lacked any true happiness or mirth, "Is that Elder Thanos?"

"Yes," Thomas affirmed, "Something has come up that he's brought to my attention. Long story short I want you to meet me over at Mr. Flamel's house."

"As you wish master," said Basil. He took the artifacts from Thomas and in a glimmer of light he vanished.

"Mr. Flamel," Thanos said bitterly as they began to walk, following Thomas' lead, "The impertinent fool, thinking he can escape death forever."

"A reaper will come for him eventually," Thomas said.

"Speaking of reapers, why are you just letting one go around killing people?" Syeira asked.

"Because someone else will stop him in due time."

"But you can stop him sooner if you already know who he is."

"Time, Syeira. You're right I could stop it, but I'd rather it be someone else in this timeline. Besides if I interfere in a case that the demon is following then I risk drawing undue attention to myself, and Ciel's hour of justice is a long ways off still."

"Oh, uh, okay," Syeira said, "So who's Mr. Flamel."

"The greatest alchemist who has ever lived. The only one who has ever created the Philosopher's Stone and thus attained immortality. Couldn't tell you when the Stone will wear out and cease producing Elixir."

"I hope soon," Thanos said, "I have him reserved for me."

"Am I reserved too?" Thomas asked cheekily.

"What?" Syeira asked with surprise, while Thanos made a grunt that indicated his own shock. Thomas merely smiled with a little twinkle in his blue eyes before he continued to lead them on.

It wasn't long before Basil re-appeared, striding alongside them like he'd never left, though his sudden reappearance made Syeira jump about a foot in the air. Neither Thomas nor Thanos seemed phased at all though. Then at last they came to a small townhouse, small and simple. Thomas knocked on the door and it opened to show a man in his mid-thirties with a white shirt, dark grey waistcoat and trousers, and a long red coat. He had a pair of spectacles perched on this nose, and was wearing an expression of boredom, though his eyes lit up when he saw Thomas and the rest of the group. "Marquess! Please, come in," the man said.

"Thank you," Thomas said, "Syeira, this is my friend Mr. Nicholas Flamel, the greatest alchemist in the world and creator of the Philosopher's Stone."

"Pleasure to meet you Mr. Flamel," Syeira said with a curtsey.

"And Mr. Flamel, this is Syeira, a gypsy girl who I've been helping," Thomas added, "And who the old man happens to be Elder Thanos in disguise, but don't worry he's not here for you yet."

"Well that's both disconcerting and comforting," Mr. Flamel said, "Please, make yourselves comfortable and I'll go make tea."

"I can do that," Basil said quickly, "I am sure my master would speak with you sooner rather than later."

"Normally I would protest, but he's right," agreed Thomas. He took a seat with the others in the modest sitting room and had Syeira set the gem down on the coffee table. "I shall explain the situation," Thomas began, "This gem is a prison from the Vault that was stolen several decades ago and has recently resurfaced. It contains a creature named Wizard's Bane which drains mana as sustenance and as I understand it the prison would normally prevent it from doing so.

"However it seems that it has been tampered with and weakened. It has left any magic wielding mortal unable to handle and any touch of an immortal is likely to break the prison completely."

"I see," Mr. Flamel said, "And this is where I come in I assume."

"Correct. I would have you use alchemy to strengthen, or restore the prison, or perhaps forge a new one. I am sure Heaven can create a new permanent one, but as yet none of us have any method of transferring the thing as we do not want to worsen the situation."

"Are you surprised about my comfort with these matters milady?" Mr. Flamel said to Syeira, spotting a surprised expression.

"I, uh, a little, but I," Syeira stuttered, feeling flustered at being addressed so formally.

"The young marquess and his family have long been friends of mine," explained Mr. Flamel simply. He picked up the gem and inspected it closely "My my, this thing _is _weak isn't it? The spell matrix is barely holding together."

"Can you patch it up?" Thomas asked.

"I think so. It might take a little while though, alchemy isn't a quick process," Mr. Flamel explained.

"Good. In the meantime we need to find who stole it and for what purpose," Thomas added.

"Perhaps I can solve that dilemma for you," a strange, guttural voice said. From the shadows stepped a tall, black robed figure that, though humanoid, possessed a dreadful octopus-like head, complete with slimy skin and writhing tentacles. It bore a staff that seemed to have a strangely illogical design; forming curves in strange places and seeming to be almost nothing more than a squiggle. And yet it glowed with a dark purple light that showed the creature holding it had immense power.

"What the hell is that!" Syeira cried, jumping back and swiftly drawing twin daggers from her boots.

"Good lord," Mr. Flamel muttered in horror, while Thanos gazed at the creature with a unique expression of surprise. Thomas for his part clutched his cane tightly, ready to use his blade at any moment. He could see the creature's hands; only barely resembling human hands, instead featuring a thumb and a pair of tentacles, and he could see them winding around the staff they held. In a flash Basil was at his side, looking ready to fight if his master ordered it.

"What are you?" Thomas asked directly.

"I am merely a servant of that which is beyond names. The name of my species would translate roughly into 'Mind Flayer'," the creature explained, its words more a mangle of guttural growls and it was then that Thomas realized it was translating its words telepathically. There was also something about it that made his stomach turn with fear and he felt he was having trouble just standing and looking at the creature.

"What do you want here?" pressed Thomas.

"You have reached the point of testing. The Hour draws near, and you must be ready. Behold!" the mind flayer said, sending bolts of indigo energy streaming from its staff into the stone on the table. In response the stone glowed and cracked and in an instant it exploded and Thomas swiftly cast a shield around himself and his companions and watched as a humanoid creature coalesced from the remains of the magic prison.

Its appearance resembled that of a man in a tattered robe with a hood; however it was clear that this was shadow and not cloth. There was no face visible within the hood, merely blackness, nor were there any hands or feet, or even sleeves for that matter, and it hovered slightly above the ground. The only appendages it had, in fact, were a pair of tentacles on its back that ended in a worm-like mouth structure, though the mouth seemed to be elongated and somewhat hinged in a manner resembling a fish. Sharp teeth were visible in these mouths as it seemed to probe its surroundings with the tentacles. Almost immediately it reached for Thomas, sensing his magical power to be the greatest amongst the mortals in the room.

In a flash of light Thomas' cane transformed into his sword Vakha which he held in front of him as the Wizard's Bane's tentacles approached him, mouths opening to show a squirming, pointed tongue at the center of the fields of needle-like teeth. "Do not betray our expectations," the mind flayer gurgled, and vanished into the shadows. One of the tentacles struck out abruptly, prompting Thomas to slice his sword sideways, cutting horizontally through the mouth and slicing the tongue as well. The tentacle shrank back in pain and the Wizard's Bane made a strange crackling, fizzing sound that seemed to be an exclamation of pain; or perhaps anger.

The strike didn't seem to faze it too much though and it began to reach out for him again. "Basil! Take care of that thing, and get it away from Mr. Flamel's house," he ordered, the winged cross mark on his neck glowing white in response.

"Yes master," Basil replied. He summoned a sword of radiant light and dashed at the magic eating creature. The butler's hand fastened around one of its tentacles and brilliant white wings unfurled from his back.

"Your butler's an angel?" Syeira muttered in awe. Thomas held them back while Basil burst upwards through the ceiling and roof, carrying the Wizard's Bane with him and vanishing from sight.

"Yes, my butler's an angel," Thomas replied simply, letting Vakha return to its cane disguise, "Now Nicholas, you and Elder Thanos stay here and work on a new soulstone to imprison that thing."

"You presume to order me boy?" Thanos asked angrily.

"Yes, I do," Thomas replied confidently, "And you'll do as you're told." Thanos looked ready to reply, but there was a certain authority to Thomas' voice that not even he could deny. "And Syeira, I want you to come with me to help Basil."

"But he's an angel, a servant of God, surely he can handle this on his own," Syeira noted.

"Angels serve many gods besides Yahweh; he's just the god of light by the way. And an angel can still be killed and I'm not keen to let that happen," Thomas explained, dashing out of the Flamel house.

"You speak as if you have an extensive knowledge of the workings of Heaven," Syeira said with surprise.

"I have an extensive knowledge of many things; including cheese making and how to make a ball out of rubber that does some awesome bouncing," said Thomas matter-of-factly, leading Syeira through the streets of London.

"No offense my lord, but are you sure you're um, right in the head?"

"Nope, not at all. Now come on, we have to find Basil."

"But how do you know where he is?"

"We have a certain connection. It's a long story; and I don't want to tell it right now."

"So where are we going?"

"Perivale," Thomas replied brightly, gazing up at the sun that was just nearing noon. London was bustling, but thankfully Basil could fly invisible as the light that surrounded them, Thomas on the other hand couldn't fly and his teleport spell was not accurate.

"But that's miles away."

"Yeah that's a good point," muttered the noble, "You've never heard the phrase 'what could possibly go wrong' have you?"

"Not particularly."

"Good, because nothing could possibly go wrong with my next idea," Thomas said. He was going to perform a variation of his teleportation spell, but he was going to try it without a circle; which made it considerably less reliable and would need a greater amount of focus from him to make sure they didn't end up anywhere other than the intended destination.

To begin he drew a faint glowing circle of light above them with Vakha's tip, and quickly chanted the incantation. The area within the circle outline began to glow as well as he chanted, and it became stronger and brighter as he went until above them was a circle of light that quickly drew them upwards into it, and vanishing as their feet slipped through. Everything went white for a moment and then that white dissipated to reveal the British countryside all around them; rolling hills covered with sweeping green grass and trees with full, bright green leaves rustling in the slight breeze under the summer sun.

"This looks like Perivale," Thomas said, "Did you handle the teleport okay Syeira?" The gypsy girl was looking a little nauseous and was taking deep breaths to still herself.

"I feel a little sick."

"Portal sickness, hang on." Thomas gently, placing two fingers on her forehead and muttering a spell under his breath. A white rune appeared on her forehead for a moment and glowed bright before vanishing. He grinned as he saw the nausea vanish from her face. "It's just a little healing spell, of sorts. Now let's see if we can find… ah there he is!" Thomas pointed towards a patch of forest where he'd spotted a flash of light.

"I'm ready," Syeira said, drawing a pair of daggers from under slits in the sides of her dress. Through the slits Thomas could see she seemed to wear tattered breeches under her dress, though he immediately realized the indecency in which he was partaking, though Syeira didn't seem to notice.

"Come on," Thomas said, grabbing her hand and dashing towards the site of the battle, utilizing his unnatural speed to cover the large expanse of ground in a matter of moments; though this resulted in him hoisting Syeira onto his shoulders to prevent her from being dragged along. He was sure he heard her try to ask him something about his speed, but the wind swept it away from even his ears.

Suddenly there was a great crash at the edge of the forest just as Thomas neared it. He dashed over and set Syeira down to see it was Basil. "Basil! Are you okay!" he cried with concern.

"Yes master," Basil said, getting to his feet, his bright wings having vanished when he crashed. The Wizard's Bane floated up through the canopy of the forest, looking like a tattered robe more than anything now. Now that Thomas got a better look at it he could see that the humanoid shape really stopped at the shoulders, the rest just trailed away into shadow. "That creature is tougher than anything I have fought. My strikes cause damage, but it heals the damage instantly. It fights back with pure, concentrated magical energy. I have never seen anything like it."

"I'm beginning to think its origins might not be related to Earth at all," Thomas muttered. "The more I look at it, and the more I think about that Mind Flayer the more I…" Thomas' voice seemed to freeze in his throat. There was no way he could even think about that, it was too much to handle.

"Ah yes of course," Basil muttered, "But what are we to do."

"I'm thinking."

"Well think quicker my lord," Syeira urged, "Because I think it's found us."

Thomas grimaced as the Wizard's Bane turned its shadowed head towards them and floated ominously for a moment while its tentacles squirmed around behind it. Then, rather abruptly, it shot towards them with incredible and shocking speed. Thomas braced himself for a fight, holding Vakha at the ready. A tentacle reached out towards him, when suddenly it was pierced by a knife. A throwing knife of simple steel, but the strike caused the Wizard's Bane to make its strange crackling, fizzling call and it was in pain enough to recoil and snap at the knife with its other tentacle in an attempt to remove it.

Thomas looked around to see it was Syeira who had thrown the knife. Before he could thank her though the creature cried out as it pulled the knife from its tentacle and tossed it to the ground. Then it did something that Thomas found surprising; it floated up into the sky and flew away towards the north like it had suddenly caught a scent. "Where's it going?" Syeira asked.

"Somewhere with more magical energy than is present here I guess," Thomas muttered.

"My lord!" Basil cried with sudden realization and seconds later Thomas came to what he assumed was the same conclusion.

"The manor!" Thomas cried, "There's enough magical items there to feed that thing for years."

"What do we do?" Syeira asked.

"I'm not sure yet, but I know we have to stop it."


	7. Episode 2 Part 3

**Episode 2**

**Part 3**

"Well obviously we should return to the mansion at once," Thomas said, "If you would be so kind Basil."

"Of course master," Basil said politely and with a wave of his hand a glowing portal appeared. "Where do you want me to go sir?"

"Hmm, I think… I want you to go stop by Nick's place and see how progress is coming on that soulstone. I don't know if we'll need it, but I don't want to take chances."

"As you wish young master," said Basil, spreading his wings again and taking to the air. Thomas led Syeira through the portal, stepping out into his entrance hall.

"Oh my," Syeira gasped.

"Never been inside a mansion before?"

"No, never," Syeira said, still in awe, "They look even bigger on the inside."

"It's a bit too big sometimes, but it's my family's and it reminds me of them, so I love every inch of it," Thomas said. He was still trying to think of a plan; he'd never met an enemy who could withstand Vahka's touch. It seemed his overuse of magic was a weakness in the face of a creature that could devour it. Yet it seemed to suffer from Syeira's knife. 'Maybe I should start carrying a gun,' he thought to himself.

"What would you like me to do my lord?" Syeira asked.

"Just keep a look out, I have to warn my staff and try to think of a plan."

"Oh, okay. How long will it take you to alert your staff? This is a pretty big house."

"A few seconds," Thomas said. He summoned an orb of light in his hands, about the size of a crystal ball and spoke into it. "Attention House of Angelus, we have an enemy making its way to our doors. Report to your stations immediately and prepare to defend." He dismissed the orb and made his way up the stairs and towards his library while Syeira went to stand out front and keep an eye on things.

His staff weren't just skilled in their trades, they had other specialties that made them helpful in serving the Order of Light. 'The Order of Light, what a delusional name,' said a voice suddenly, a voice in his head. It sounded like the Mind Flayer, but he heard voices in his head from across time and space so he couldn't be sure. Still, it seemed to be directly addressing him instead of being picked up like stray telegraph signals. 'You humans are always so confident in your dichotomies. Good and evil, light and dark, do you have any real clue what those are? How do they relate to the universe?'

"Go away," Thomas muttered sharply.

'You serve an Order devoted to 'light' and yet it serves more than your paltry god of light. So what is it you serve?'

"Light represents good," Thomas muttered. He knew these types of philosophies; They spoke of them when he belonged to Them. It was obvious now that the Mind Flayers and this Wizard's Bane, creatures beyond the Reapers and the Gods of Earth, were related to the creatures who had him before Basil came. At this realization he felt his whole body shudder in fear. 'I have to hold together,' he thought to himself, taking a few deep breaths to steady his emotions.

'And what is good? Is there even such a thing? Or is it perhaps just a word you humans invented to comfort yourselves against the vast emptiness around you.'

"Hurting others is wrong, no matter if they're an ant or a giant," Thomas retorted.

'And yet you hurt them. Think of that boy, the false noble and his pet demon. You hurt them willingly, and enjoyed doing so. Is that good? Or is that evil? Or perhaps it was simply servitude to emotions; the true master of humanity. And the other whom you desire and despise, what do your emotions want you to do?'

"I… I'm not afraid of you!" he yelled suddenly, seemingly to no one. "_I_ am the master of my emotions! All that threatens the peace of mortal creatures is my enemy, and all my enemies will feel the burning light of justice!" There was no response and he realized how insane he'd just seemed. 'It's trying to distract me,' he thought, 'Just ignore it; I have friends who need me to find a way to beat that creature.'

He reached his library and immediately began searching through books, reagents, and tools. "A creature that consumes magic, so what could harm it?" The only thing he'd seen harm it were Vahka, albeit only minimally, and Syeira's iron dagger which seemed to cause it notable pain. "Plain metal!" he cried abruptly with realization, "It consumes magic, even the channeled magic of the gods, but plain metals it can't handle! Stupid Thomas, you're getting slow."

Yet even that didn't seem entirely fulfilling an answer because there was still one problem he'd noticed; the Mind Flayer. It's prowess in the arcane arts vastly surpassed his own, making it the strongest creature in the room at the time of the Wizard's Bane's release. "So why was I targeted? Shouldn't it have targeted the strongest mage in the room? Yet it didn't seem to notice."

This question seemed like it would have to go unanswered for the time being, as an orb of flame appeared in front of him and Uriel spoke through it. "Master the enemy is here. The barriers have been erected throughout and around the manor, but this… thing is already through the first one. It's like it just ate a hole through it."

"How's Syeira?" Thomas asked.

"The gypsy girl? She's doing quite well. Her knives seem to be the only thing affecting this thing."

"As I figured," Thomas muttered, "Do not use magic against it, it'll just devour it. Use real weapons only and make sure their enchantments are lowered if they have them."

"Alright, I'll show this monster I don't need magic to roast it!" Uriel closed the connection while Thomas continued to think of a possible weapon. The mystery of how the Mind Flayer controlled the creature would have to wait.

"I guess I could use… but that might be dangerous," Thomas said to himself. "No, safety is relative at this point." He left the library with that, looking to grab the object in question.

((()))

Meanwhile Syeira had run out and engaged the Wizard's Bane the moment it came within range of her knives. She managed to strike it with another knife throw, and that had really gotten its attention. Getting hit twice by cold iron from the same person seemed to have given it a bit of a grudge, because it floated down towards her instead of continuing towards the mansion. Or rather it swooped down, with its tentacles snapping at her.

Syeira grinned and dove aside and rolled into a crouch. "Is that all you've got worm-back?" she asked, hurling another knife. To her surprise it struck something a couple feet from the creature's body and clattered to the ground. When she looked at the creature better she saw a shimmering purple barrier surrounding it like a bubble of twilight. "It has its own magic," the gypsy girl muttered, she wasn't sure if she expecting that, but she _was_ expecting it to be more difficult than it seemed.

Not a problem, she thought, grabbing something else from her belt. It was a small, ball shaped brass casing with a fuse attached; a bomb. Even as the Wizard's Bane closed in on her she struck a match, lit the fuse and tossed the explosive. It struck the shield seconds before exploding, and while the shield shuddered and blinked slightly, showing little damage, the actual shock of the blast seemed to have reached the creature inside because it was flung away from the explosion by a few feet.

Immediately a loud BANG resounded and the Wizard's Bane's barrier made a sound like cracking glass. Syeira saw the source of the obvious gunshot was a man who seemed to be a chef, holding a slim, brass gun the likes of which the gypsy girl had never seen. There seemed to be a couple extra chambers, but the overall design just looked odd. Even more surprising was when the chef almost instantly fired again, causing a very obvious crack to appear in the magical shield of the floating creature.

Syeira took the opportunity presented by the distraction to hurl another bomb. With a sound like shattering glass the field cracked and vanished, leaving the Wizard's Bane floating unprotected once again. Before it could move, a tangle of vines burst from the ground and wrapped around its tentacles and what they could grasp of the creature itself. Then a blur shot towards the creature and soared down to land in front of Syeira, revealing it to be a rather old man armed with a pair of kataras splattered with black blood. The reason for this showed itself as the ends of the Wizard's Bane's tentacles fell off and shrivelled up, cut clean off.

What followed was perhaps the most startling thing Syeira had seen yet today; a blast of energy, like coloured light, struck the Wizard's Bane, causing it to howl in agony. Another blast struck it, and another, and yet despite the magical appearance the assault wasn't devoured. She followed the trajectory of the shots to see Thomas in the distance holding what seemed to be a pistol, though it was very slim and seemed to have no room for a single bullet.

"Master!" Uriel asked Thomas, just as surprised as everyone else. "What on earth is that?"

Thomas frowned and fired one final blast at the now limp and slowly evaporating form of the creature. "It's a directed energy weapon."

"A what!"

"A gun that shoots energy," Thomas reiterated, "It's generates a projectile made of pure energy and fires it. Since I don't have a name for this energy yet I just call it a light gun."

"Oh."

Thomas holstered the weapon and approached the vine entangled monster. He wasn't sure if he should feel thrilled that it was beaten, or anxious that it fell so easily. "An aberration shouldn't die so easily," he muttered to himself.

"Not a worry master," Basil said, abruptly appearing beside him, "A new soulstone is being prepared."

"No," Thomas said, "No earthly soulstone can contain this monster. The only way to end its threat is to destroy it."

The creature's limp form twitched within the vines, the shadows around it seeming to evaporate. Then the shadow was sucked into it, swirling around and reforming across its body. Then the shadows vanished and a similar, though different, creature sat where the Wizard's Bane had been. It was like some sort of large, tubular worm with a sickly yellow-white colour with a bit that curled forwards like some sort of head. From its 'back' sprouted two parallel rows of three spines, and slightly in front were a total of six tentacles.

"Of course," Thomas muttered in awe and fear, though he tried to push the latter emotion away. "A hulgothau, the mana worms." He paused for a moment as a bunch of things he'd been told of the creature suddenly made sense. "Oh! I'm so thick! Crazy and thick!" he yelled, "It was chained and dying when it came to Earth! They shoved it in a soulstone and it grew strong again on the inherent world magic. That stone wasn't a prison to it, it was a hospital! And now it's finally seen fit to break the shadow bonds and destroy us!"

"It's one of those creatures from beyond the stars then," Basil affirmed, seeing the creature begin to break the vines.

"Syeira! House of Angelus! To me!" Thomas called. His staff quickly assembled next to him, Syeira joining them. "So to take it down we'll have to act fast and strike hard," he explained, "Basil! I want you to keep to your role of keeping it occupied. Uriel, you and Syeira will keep the pressure on any shielding it creates. Azrael, you'll be striking when you can, aim for the tentacles. It takes energy to heal injuries and regrow limbs, and we want to sap all the mana it's stored over the centuries. Raphael, I want you to use your druid skills to summon anything that can slow it down and distract it; treants, vines, whatever."

"And you master?" Basil asked.

"I'll be firing whenever its shield is down," Thomas added as the hulgothau broke the last of its bonds, "And… go!"

Basil summoned a silver sword with gold filigree and soared towards the hulgothau. The sword was non-magical so as to be effective against the creature, but that didn't stop it from being blocked, to Basil's slight surprise, by blades of energy that extended from the mouths of its tentacles. In an attempt to even the odds of six blades versus one, Basil summoned a second sword and fought with all his might.

"Lord Thomas," Syeira said, suddenly stern, "When that thing is dead, I want to know how you know about it." She dashed off to find a better position before Thomas could respond. Raphael dashed off down the hill towards the green woods; whose untouched status was intended to be of benefit to druids. Thomas simply made sure his light gun was ready to go.

The hulgothau surrounded itself in a shield once again as it fought Basil. Almost immediately Uriel opened fire on the shield, which now proved far more durable. Nonetheless he continued firing, stopping only to reload and fire again. Meanwhile Syeira hurled bombs, trying to cause the shield to shatter once more. Though she found at the rate she was going she would soon run out. She wasn't sure what she'd do when that happened, but improvising was something she was good at doing.

The gypsy girl hurled one final bomb and the shield shattered. Almost immediately something swarmed from the forest where Raphael had run off to. It turned out to be a squad of about forty vaguely humanoid tree-like creatures who shambled forwards on root-like legs. As they approached the hulgothau they summoned tangles of vines and roots from the ground that twisted and grabbed onto the creature after which Azrael swiftly jumped up them and slashed through three of its tentacles while Basil sliced through the other three.

Black ichor spewed from the stumps where the limbs had been, as the severed portions dropped to the ground and shrivelled away. Thomas raised his gun and fired, sending a bolt of energy searing straight into the creature's 'head'. The body part exploded from the energy and the body became limp. "Raphael!" Thomas called out, "Bring the creature's body to the ground."

In response the vines wrapped around the mangled remains and dragged it to the ground. The moment it was in reach Thomas surged forward with inhuman speed, Vakha ready in his hand and its enchantments lowered. He saw the hulgothau beginning to regrow its severed portions and in an instant he was on it, slicing through the stumps and firing his light gun in that berserker rage he held inside him. Black ichor splattered him as he ripped into it like a rabid animal, sometimes ripping off a regrowing tentacle with his bare hands. The rage and pain of the past just flowed into actions and it felt good to let it out. There was a part of him that knew he was supposed to be controlling these emotions, but he was ignoring it.

"Master!" Basil called to him sternly, but he paid the beckon no mind, even though the hulgothau was clearly very dead now. In the midst of his fury he saw the mind flayer appear before him. Thomas charged at it, sword and gun ready, only to feel his entire body stop moving in midair. Not matter what he did he couldn't move, some force was holding him still.

"Well done," the mind flayer said, "You have proven yourself full of the wrath and fury that my masters need."

"Let me go!" Thomas yelled angrily.

"But you lack the ability to channel and control your rage. Rage gives humans power, but power without focus is wasted. And we have no use for a spider that will waste its venom." As if to punctuate its point, Thomas felt his limbs forcefully twisted into a crawling, spider-like gait. It hurt to be twisted in such a manner, but he'd known much greater pain.

"Basil, please help me," Thomas whispered, his rage draining away. He could vaguely see below him the slaughtered remains of the hulgothau, and some of his horrified staff. The mind flayer though forced him to stay focused on it.

"You will bring the Hour of Eternity to fruition and you must be ready. Perhaps I should take you for more training."

Thomas suddenly felt the force holding him dissipate, causing him to drop to the ground. The reason for the mind flayer's sudden loss of interest turned out to be, as he'd expected, Basil who had launched a bolt of light at the creature while it was distracted and proceeded to close the distance in a flash to press his advantage. "You will not have my master this day creature," he said, bringing his sword down towards the mind flayer, only for it to block the blow with its staff.

"Angels, the lapdogs of gods," the mind flayer said as it fought with Basil, though the effortlessness with which it parried attacks proved that it was simply toying with him. "I'm convinced your only purpose for existing is to convince the mortals that they're important."

"Our purpose is to defend mortals from the horrors of eternity," Basil countered.

"You coddle them like children, but even a parent can be struck down. Then where would they be?"

"Yeah, well this child can fight back," Thomas said, standing ready beside his butler with his sword in one hand and his gun in the other. "And what about the rest of you children!" he called to his staff. They all gathered around the mind flayer with weapons ready

"I see you have recovered from your madness master," Basil said.

"Madness is temporary, loyalty is a forest," Thomas replied simply.

"My lord that makes no sense," Syeira pointed out tentatively.

"You believe seven of you even stand a chance against one who has mastered the primordial powers of the mind?" the mind flayer asked. Before any of them could answer it raised its staff and a great blast of energy issued forth, sending Thomas and his companions flying away to land in the dirt several meters away.

"Such power," Basil groaned as he got to his feet. "It is on par with those things from beyond."

"Not at all, I am merely among their servants. They're far greater than I," the mind flayer said, "Now I have completed my task I must take my leave." And with that the creature vanished as abruptly as it had appeared.

Thomas sighed as he got to his feet. He wasn't really hurt, the attack seemed more like it was intended to push them away, not inflict any notable harm. Plus these kinds of pain were nothing to him anymore. He knew true pain, and a few bumps and bruises definitely weren't it. He and Basil helped the others to their feet. Raphael was among them, it seemed he'd been at the center of the treants, the walking trees, rather than commanding them from afar. The beings themselves had returned to the woods, terrified of the mind flayer.

"My apologies to you all," Thomas announced to his staff, "I wish you hadn't seen me lose myself like that."

"It's fine my lord," Azrael said, "You have gone through so much in your short life, it's a wonder you have any semblance of sanity left."

"Indeed," Thomas muttered, "Basil, go make some tea; I think I need a couple cups right now."

"Yes my lord."

"Syeira, you can come with me. The rest of you have the day off, if you desire."


	8. Episode 2 Part 4

**Episode 2**

**Part 4**

A short time later Thomas was sitting in his chair in the sitting room, a cup of tea on the table beside him. The pot was on the coffee table in front of the couch, on which sat Syeira who held a cup of her own. Basil was nearby, cleaning in another room and Thomas sat with his fingers steepled in front of his chin, almost ignoring his tea. "My lord, it grows late and I must be home."

"You asked me to explain what I knew of the monsters you have seen today. Parts of my knowledge are based on the events that have left my mind broken, and I would not relive those." Thomas paused to sip his tea and sigh. "First you must understand the truth of the nature of our universe; we mortals are tiny. There is no all-powerful deity watching over us waiting to bring us to eternal peace when we die. We are not 'made in the image' of a god. There is nothing special about humans. We are small, weak, and the gods of our small planet care as much about us as they do the ants crawling in the ground. They protect us, and care for us, but only because we are on their planet.

"The universe is dark and chaotic. We do what we can to tame the chaos and create order, but ultimately our insignificance means our pitiful attempts at order are as nothing in the vastness of eternity. That is why I scoff at Ciel and his pet demon. They quest for revenge and the order of the Queen. What is revenge though? Believing you can demand some kind of repayment for the chaos and depravity of reality? His parents were slaughtered, as were mine, and it was nothing more than a cruel twist of fate. So what right do we tiny creatures have to demand repayment from something greater?

"The creatures you saw; they are disciples of the eternal gods, the mighty beings that lurk in the dark and terrible places of the universe. They lie asleep and imprisoned, but even in that state they call out to others. Their unfathomable power manipulates us, drives us to madness, and controls our lives for their amusement while they sleep. Their servants seek to exacerbate the chaos and bring oblivion to all, and to awaken their gods. When that happens the universe will be consumed in bloody chaos that makes the current situation look ordered."

"That's… such a pessimistic view of things," Syeira said after a long silence.

"It's the truth. It is why I follow the god Yahweh and assist others. I like to help ease the chaos and madness in whatever ways I can, to shine the light of hope into their lives. To help maintain this small tenuous order we've attempted in our little corner of the universe. I seek no payment from those greater than me; the knowledge that I've foiled the chaos even a little is more than enough."

"But my lord… that rage you flew into, is that not born out of a wish for revenge? Those who seek such a thing are the only ones I've ever seen reach that level of anger."

"That is retribution. It is simply punishment for those who deserve it. Those monsters come to my home on my planet and attempt to destroy what I hold dear. As such it is only right that they receive appropriate punishment; the same pain and death they seek to inflict."

"You have a personal stake in the matters then?" Syeira asked, "That seems like revenge."

"It's not. My stake in the matters is irrelevant. I merely seek to give what is owed."

Syeira looked as if she was considering responding, but decided against it and Thomas immediately felt guilty for frightening her. He drank his tea down and got up, moving to sit next to the gypsy girl on the couch. "I'm sorry for frightening you earlier. While I hate to admit it, the mind flayer was right about one thing; I do need to learn to control my anger. But it would never become targeted at you." He paused to sigh as he considered carefully his next words, "And… maybe you're right, maybe I am being hypocritical. I'm sure revenge motivates me to some extent, but… it's not the only thing that does so."

"Something terrible has happened to you," Syeira said, "I can tell."

"Unimaginably," Thomas replied bluntly.

"But remember you still have a family. You have Basil who clearly cares for you more than anything, and you have your staff who all care for you as well."

"I know, and it's thanks to them I haven't put a bullet in my mouth," replied Thomas, "And it's thanks to them I'm not like Phantomhive." They fell silent for a time, listening to the clock tick and Basil clean in the next room. "Besides I have no time to fret on those matters, there's a festival coming and I have to get you home."

"Right. What about Thanos and Mr. Flamel?" Syeira asked.

"Oh yeah," Thomas muttered, "Let me have another cup of tea first." He poured the drink himself and mixed in several sugar cubes, apparently back to his usual cheerful demeanour.

"Why so much sugar?"

"My body and lifestyle require a lot of energy, so I need a lot of intake," Thomas explained, "If I'm out of energy then I end up being too tired and sluggish to do much of anything except sleep."

"What do you men 'my body'? Yours is different?"

"You could say that," replied Thomas evasively, drinking his extremely sweet tea. He also had a sweet tooth, and he'd had that since well before his lost time. "Well, I guess there's really no other way to say it," he added.

"So full of mysteries aren't you?"

"Where's the fun in knowing someone if they tell you everything up front?" Thomas asked cheekily.

"I suppose," Syeira replied, "What did you mean earlier when talking to Thanos? You asked if he was waiting for you."

"Oh that, well I would think it was obvious, but I'm immortal," Thomas explained with chipper simplicity that seemed unfitting for what he'd just said, "I mean, I can die if you shoot me in the head or run me through with a sword, but not of natural causes."

"That's… how?" Syeira asked, confused as ever by the noble boy's odd mannerisms.

"Maybe luck, things happen and you end up immortal. It's complicated," Thomas explained, once again trying to dodge the question.

Thomas finished off the last of the tea and got to his feet. "Alright Syeira, let's get you home."

"Okay."

"Basil," Thomas called. The angel arrived almost instantly and bowed. "Basil, could you open a portal please? I would like to bring Syeira home. After that these dishes need doing, the tea was very good by the way, and if you have time could you inform Mr. Flamel and Thanos that the matter of the hulgothau has been dealt with?"

"As you wish my lord," said Basil, "I shall get supper started as well shall I?"

"Yes, thanks Basil," Thomas replied cheerily. "Now if you would please do the honours." Basil opened a portal of light and Thomas quickly grabbed Vakha, now back in the form of a cane, and donned his top hat and cloak before stepping through the portal with Syeira. They went through the brief white void before stepping out into an alleyway in London.

"I don't think I'll ever get used to that," Syeira said.

"You do when you go through it enough," Thomas said, leading her out of the alley and into the crowd.

"You really do stand out with all that white on," Syeira commented.

"A bright light in the chaos of reality," Thomas countered cryptically, "I like white; it's pure and simple. Plus I'm a light mage, so it only makes sense that I wear clothing that matches that. But mostly I just like it."

"Fair enough," Syeira replied.

"You know Syeira, I like having you around. I don't think we could've killed that hulgothau without you, and it's been nice to have someone my own age around."

"I've enjoyed being with such a tolerant noble. As I said before, most people of your position don't have a very favourable opinion of my people."

"I'm glad you enjoyed the experience. But we're not done yet. The Festival's in a couple days and I intend to be there."

"Will you keep helping us set up?" asked Syeira hopefully.

"Of course! I do have plenty of work though; I have to recalibrate and complete the light gun so it can pierce hulgothau shields, then I have to disenchant the other objects I took from your grandmother, and then I have to scan London for threats again. You know the usual stuff."

"Sounds like you do a lot."

"Yeah, but it has to be done and I don't mind doing it. It's my duty to keep London safe, seeing everyone living more or less peacefully in ignorance of the darkness all around them is a great reward, and focusing on my duty keeps me sane," Thomas explained.

They were near the park where the gypsy camp now and Thomas quickened his pace, bringing Syeira with him and then they were there at the gypsy camp, which was already looking much more ready for the festival. "Well my lord, this was a most interesting day," Syeira said when they arrived in the camp, "Do you think any more of those things will appear?"

"Well squid-head seemed to indicate there won't be," replied Thomas, "At least not for a while. That should give me time to focus on Spring-Heeled Jack and Lord Smith."

"Lord Smith?" a voice asked. Thomas looked up to see that the owner of the voice was a tall, notably well-built man whose dark suit was fitted so as to show off his muscles. He had dark hair in a ponytail, similar to Basil's hairstyle, and a fair face. Thomas noticed the eyes of a couple of the gypsy women follow him and the noble boy was sure they were undressing him in their minds, perhaps in spite of themselves. "Do you mean Marquess Ian Smith?"

"Who're you?" Thomas countered.

"Oh, my apologies, I am Charles Forgione, the Steward of the Smith household."

"And I am Marquess Thomas Angelus."

"As I believed, you're the one who's been so urgently requesting a meeting with my lord."

"Ah, then yes I do mean Ian Smith," Thomas replied cheerily, "And what good fortune running into his steward here. The Midsummer Festival was keeping our meeting from occurring sooner so what better place to arrange one then the site of the festival."

"Indeed. So you would like to arrange a meeting with my master. I believe we can give you June 23rd."

"No, I'm afraid that is the date of my birthday, and I would simply be too busy to visit on that day."

"Then perhaps the 25th would be better?" Charles asked.

"Yes, I believe that would more than suffice."

"Very well, I will let my master know. Now is there a specific reason for this meeting?"

"I'm most interested in Lord Smith's theories, this 'evolution' thing I find extremely fascinating," Thomas explained, though it was only a half-truth. While he was interested in the developing theories of evolution, he was already well aware of the workings and existence of the process and had occasionally seen it first-hand in his head. "You must understand that although I am young I find myself greatly interested in the sciences; after all is not my company primarily concerned with science and technology?"

"You are a very smart young man Lord Angelus," Charles replied, "Very well, I will tell my master all this when I arrive home."

"What is the purpose of your presence here?" Syeira asked abruptly, "Surely you didn't come all the way down to London to speak with Lord Angelus."

"A very bright observation," Charles replied, "I was primarily in town running an errand for my master, and I decided to take a small detour to see how far along the festival's preparations are."

"It'll all be ready by June 21st," Syeira said.

"We all look forward to it," Thomas said brightly, "Now I really need to get home, I have work to do before supper. Good day Syeira." With that he strode off back towards the portal location. He was no fool; he could tell Charles wasn't human by any means, but he wasn't going to start a fight there in the middle of public. Besides, if his hypothesis was correct, then Charles might serve useful in other ways.

((()))

The talk with Mr. Flamel and Elder Thanos was quick and to the point, Thomas really wasn't in the mood to deliberate on the details. He informed them both that their services were no longer required and the problem was dealt with. Elder Thanos didn't seem quite as accepting of the verdict, but also satisfied enough that he didn't feel the need to force an explanation out of the young noble. Without any farewell the reaper vanished in a burst of shadow and shortly after Thomas bid farewell to the alchemist and tread through a portal of light to home.

He emerged in the entrance hall where Basil promptly appeared and took his cloak and hat to hang up. "Well Basil," Thomas began once he finished changing his shoes, which had gotten quite dirty over the day, "I managed to arrange that meeting with Lord Ian Smith. I met one of his servants at the gypsy camp."

"How very fortunate," Basil commented.

"His name's Charles, and I'm pretty sure he's an incubus."

"You were face to face with a demon?"

"Yes. Don't worry; I'm all raged out for today. I'm a little more concerned with supper. Let me know when it's finished; I'll be in my study."

From there the next couple of days seemed to fly by; supper, work, bed, breakfast, work, luncheon, work, tea, work, supper and repeat. Thomas found he did get quite busy. He had to work through his various company related matters, though Azrael helped in this field, spend several hours stripping enchantments from the objects he took from Electra, tinker with his light gun to strengthen it, and then when he had time he'd travel into London with Basil to get some air and a change of scenery. So he was sad to find that by the day of the festival he'd actually not seen much more of Syeira due to not having enough time to help set up.

So when the day of the festival dawned, Thomas was feeling even more excited and cheerful than usual. He had extra servings of breakfast, surprising Basil with his tremendous appetite, even more than usual, and asked Azrael and Basil to deal with most of his daily tasks. He wanted to focus on his training and then the festival; a day off as it were. "Basil," Thomas said as he got up from the table, "Besides what I've asked you and Azrael to do for me, will you be available to spar with me?"

"Of course master. If I could not make time to assist you in training, what kind of butler would I be?"

"Probably a mortal one," Thomas quipped back, before making his way to the library to practice magic. He could barely contain his excitement though, he always loved festivals and it was Midsummer no less. He knew Raphael would probably be heading into the woods to spend time amongst nature, but the rest of his staff would probably join him.

The rest of the morning was magic training, and later sword practice with Basil. It was nice to have a day without any of his more grueling tasks; especially his business affairs, which he found having to mostly sit and sign papers to be incredibly boring. He would rather be moving and active, but he liked his company in the end so he endured the boring parts.

Luncheon followed sword practice, and Thomas' appetite was as great as ever. Between magic and swordplay he was quite hungry and ever more excited. By the time he'd finished eating he could simply not wait any longer and went to get ready; donning his hat, cloak and a new pair of shoes for outside and had Basil open a portal. "Thank you once again for the practice Basil," Thomas said, "And for the meals. You all come along when you're able." And with that he stepped through the portal.

From the secluded spot he emerged he made his way through town towards the gypsy camp. As he got closer he saw the crowd beginning to increase. The gypsy fair was very cheap and designed more for middle and lower class people, though some nobles attended if they didn't feel like travelling all the way to Cambridge for midsummer. Of course having an angel meant Thomas didn't really have to worry about transportation, but he always preferred the simpler gypsy fairs to the famous Cambridge one.

When the park came in sight he saw that the recreational caravans were open and bright, colourful tents in red and yellow surrounded them. "It's amazing what normal humans can do without magic," Thomas muttered to himself as he approached.

He made his way into the fairgrounds and through the crowd, which was still fairly small, and like every year he looked around with excitement at the whole thing. "Lord Angelus!" a familiar voice cried and he turned in the direction of the voice to see Syeira approaching him quickly. When she reached him she curtsied respectfully and, to his surprise, hugged him. "I was getting worried you wouldn't show," she said.

"I told you I'd show up, and I did," Thomas replied as they separated, but he held his arm out for her, "Come on, let's look around."

"Isn't that a bit… improper my lord?"

"No, because I say it's not," Thomas insisted, "Come on." After a moment of hesitation Syeira took his arm and walked with him.

There was so much to see, and Thomas had no idea what to do first. There was a strongman who was demonstrating his strength by lifting incredibly heavy weights; his muscles bulging all over as he showed off. Thomas for his part tried not to scoff, since his body was more than strong enough to handle the weight he was seeing, but out of a desire to keep attention away he opted against showing off.

Next there were a pair of fire eaters; gypsy men juggling flaming torches and then putting one of the flames out with their mouth before re-lighting the extinguished flame and starting over. "That reminds me of Uriel," Thomas commented as he and Syeira watched them, "You never really got to see, but he's an incredibly skilled pyromancer."

"I suppose that makes sense, being a chef and all."

"Being able to control the exact temperatures of the flames is a very useful skill for cooking." Next they came across a pair of jugglers. Here Thomas grinned as they juggled back and forth between them a number of small balls in different, almost dizzying, patterns.

He handed his cane to Syeira and approached the duo indicating he'd like to join in. "You can juggle my lord?" one of the jugglers asked.

"My lord can juggle?" the other echoed.

"Juggle I can," Thomas replied cheerily and they tossed him one of the balls, starting slowly, tossing him one more while he tossed the one he had back. The pace picked up pretty quickly and the jugglers and Syeira were both surprised, though Syeira to a lesser extent, to see that Thomas could indeed juggle.

"How did you learn to juggle?" Syeira asked.

"By practicing," Thomas answered, "I have great hand-eye coordination." He briefly juggled all the balls at once, before returning to the three-person formation. A few minutes later they each caught a few of the balls and bowed to Syeira.

"That was amazing," she said brightly, while Thomas handed the balls back to the jugglers and took back his cane. "You're a man of many talents aren't you?"

"Whenever I get bored I try a new skill," Thomas explained, "They… haven't all turned out as well as juggling. I once had Uriel try to teach me to cook and, um, let's just say cooking is best left to him."

Syeira giggled in response "What'd you do?"

"It's… not important," Thomas said. Next they came to the stage where the magician was putting on a show. This was one of Thomas' favourite parts; messing with stage magicians, or helping them out depending on his mood. In fact he seemed to be getting particularly lucky because the man, the Dazzling Dimitry, was only just beginning and looking into the crowd for an assistant. "Come on, I'll show you some magic," Thomas said, joining the audience and discreetly using a slight suggestion spell to make sure Dimitry chose him.

"You, my young lord, would you care to join me," he said.

"I would love to," Thomas replied, handing his hat and cane to Syeira and jumping up on stage, to a noticeable measure of applause and sounds of amazement. "Yes, Marquess Angelus is assisting a gypsy performer," he said, "I'm not allowed to have a little fun?"

"How right you are my lord, now for my first act I would like you to," Dimitry began, pausing as he unveiled a coffin that was hidden under a cloth with swords leaning against it, "Thrust these swords into the coffin once I step inside."

Thomas did as asked, but did not insert the swords into the designated locations; instead placing them in freely. He grinned when the last sword was placed in and turned to the crowd, "And now I snap my fingers," Thomas said, causing an explosion of smoke to appear to the left from which the magician appeared, utterly unharmed. The man looked bewildered for a moment, but dropped into a bow anyways to the applause.

This pattern continued throughout the act, the dove pan trick had Thomas using a normal lid and causing the water to turn into doves under his command and returning to the pan to become water. The rope he cut right in the middle, to Dimitry's shock, and Thomas ended up restoring it completely. The other dismemberment acts had Thomas using other spells to create illusory swords and the like and other such uses of true magic that, by the end, had the crowd applauding and Dimitry thoroughly confused.

At last Thomas jumped off the stage after a bow and he rejoined Syeira. "That was amazing, though I think you kind of upstaged poor Dimitry," she said with a giggle, "I'll have to explain it to him later."

"Thanks, I'm glad magic is one of the things I practice."

"You practice magic?" came a female voice, an oddly cheery one. Thomas saw the source of the voice was a girl his age with bright blonde hair in curly pigtails and sparkling green eyes, garbed in an elegant red dress that was an obvious sign of her status.

"Ah, Lady Elizabeth of Midford," Thomas said cheerily, "A delight to see you here."

"Oh likewise! So you say you know how to perform these magic tricks?" Elizabeth asked eagerly.

"Something like that. I can show you a couple at my birthday ball."

"Oh could you! I would so love to have something to surprise Ciel with."

"Ciel! You don't mean Ciel Phantomhive do you?" Thomas asked, trying to hide his shock.

"Of course! Didn't you know? He's my fiancé."

"I did not know that actually. He doesn't happen to be here does he?"

"As a matter-of-fact he does! He's just catching up."

Right on queue the young Earl finally managed to push his way through the crowd, looking weary and clearly wishing he were anywhere else. Syeira agreed that he was something of a mirror image of her friend, garbed in a dark blue double-breasted frock coat that he wore buttoned up, similar coloured breeches on his legs and a black cloak and hat, as well as an eyepatch. In his hand was a black cane topped with an ivory skull.

Almost immediately Thomas felt bile rise in his throat, but just the fact he was surrounded by people, as well as Syeira, made him resist the fury that sought to well up inside him. "Greetings Ciel Phantomhive!" Thomas said, keeping his usual cheer and holding out his hand "A pleasure to meet you. I've heard lots about you."

"I've not met you before have I?" Ciel asked, completely ignoring Thomas' hand, his voice the epitome of coldness.

"No, but it's always nice to meet new people is it not?"

"It's not."

'It's like talking to one of the steambots,' Thomas thought bitterly. "It's a festival, why don't you…" Thomas began, but trailed off when he spotted someone who, at the moment, was of far more interest; the broad form of Charles Forgione moving towards Madame Electra's tent. Not even bothering to finish his sentence he dashed off to catch up with the steward. "Charles!" he called when he was within range.

The demon turned with slight surprise to see him. "Lord Angelus! My, aren't the fates whimsical," he said.

"Indeed. I was just wondering if you could dispel some curiosities for me before I meet with your master."

"It depends on what the curiosities are."

"Well I have a few. To start with, I have heard rumours of Lord Smith receiving an invitation to Buckingham Palace. I have also heard rumours of strange sounds from within the mansion. I have also-"

"My lord, I'm afraid the answers to many of those questions are confidential and I cannot disclose them. You must ask Lord Smith himself as you shall not hear any such information from me." With that the steward departed, leaving Thomas annoyed at having been shot down so quickly.

"Oh believe me demon, I shall," he muttered to himself before returning to the festivities.


	9. Episode 3 Part 1

**Episode 3**

**Part 1**

"I told you I'm not doing that!" Thomas shouted as he angrily made his way towards his room with his upper body oddly undressed, wearing only his shirt, which was partially open. He was followed by Mary who carried a corset and dress.

"My lord, you said you wanted to get information out of that incubus at your ball," Mary said as Thomas slammed his bedroom doors shut.

"I know what I said," Thomas yelled, "And your solution is preposterous. I am not cross-dressing to get information!"

"But my lord, how else do you expect to get information out of an incubus?"

"I can throw holy water at him."

"And make a commotion? You can't kidnap one of the guests, and you can't do anything that would draw Lord Smith's ire. There's nothing subtle about kidnapping his steward."

"Then I'll think of something else!" Thomas yelled. His toned, slightly muscular torso showed through the opening in his shirt as he unbuttoned it fully and took a seat on the bed, fuming quietly.

The current situation started after he got home from the fair. After getting blown off he spent the rest of the day with Syeira, playing a couple fair games that had been set up, enjoying the cheap food, and eventually when night fell and the bonfire was lit, he danced with her around it. He didn't see Ciel or Elizabeth again, and he could care less. It was more fun being with Syeira. Then when dusk finally arrived the fire attendants threw powders into it that made it jump up higher in a wide assortment of colours. Even with all the things he'd seen in his life, Thomas still found the sight to be incredible.

But then, as the activity faded and people began to head for home, the inevitable became more obvious; he'd have to say good-bye to Syeira and focus back on his missions. He'd tried asking her to stay with him, but she wanted to look after her grandma. So he left that night after a hug feeling sad. She would be gone by the time he was able to get down to the park area the next day, and they packed up quicker than they set up.

So instead he'd told Basil about his meeting with the incubus and his wish to get some more information out of him before heading to Lord Smith's after his birthday. The steward would be there, he was sure of it, so it would be the perfect time to attempt an interrogation. However his birthday ball required his presence, and he needed a way to interrogate in a subtle way. That was the thought on his mind when he went to bed.

When Thomas had gotten up and had breakfast, Mary asked for him to come to a spare dressing room, and when he got there she had him remove his frock, waistcoat and shirt to have him try on a dress. The plan his servants had come up with was to disguise him as a girl and attempt to get the incubus to enthrall him and if Thomas asked the right questions, he'd get some of the information he wanted.

Thomas adamantly refused to wear a dress, resulting in him storming from the dressing room and returning to his bedroom where he now fumed. "I am not dressing like a fruit just to get information," Thomas muttered to himself. "Hear me Basil?" he added, turning his gaze to the butler who had appeared in a corner of the room, holding a tray with wine on it.

"I brought you some wine to help you calm down."

"Thank you Basil," Thomas said, taking the glass and downing it surprisingly quickly.

Within minutes he felt a strange chill run through him. His chest felt a bit heavier, and there was something resting against his back, not to mention his hands looked slimmer. Looking down he saw a pair of small breasts and long blonde hair falling into his face. "Basil," he began, his voice a little higher, but his tone dangerously calm, "Why am I a girl now?"

"Well master you said you refused to cross-dress, so now you will no longer be cross-dressing," Basil explained logically.

"You turned me into a girl!" Thomas yelled and jumped to his feet furiously.

"Master please button your shirt, it's terribly improper for a young lady to be so undressed," Basil replied calmly, with a hint of amusement in his voice.

"Shut up! Your plan is to turn me into a girl, but then how do I host my own ball when I'm posing as a guest? Not to mention you tricked me into changing my gender. I'm sure that girly boy Phantomhive would gladly do this, but I'm not Ciel!"

"Calm down master, it's only temporary and there's an antidote to lift the spell sooner," Basil explained.

"Then give me the damn antidote!" Thomas yelled.

"Listen master, Uriel will double as you while you attempt to get information from the incubus. I can handle the cooking in the meantime."

"You?"

"Of course, what kind of butler would I be if I couldn't single-handedly cook for an entire ball?"

"Fine," Thomas spat, "I'll pretend to be a girl, but only until I get the information I want."

"That's the intent. As you can see I'm one heavenly butler."

"Yes, yes you're very funny," Thomas replied dismissively, still in a poor mood.

There was a knock at the door and it was Mary who entered. "Well Master, aren't you pretty," she said cheekily.

"Shut up."

"Now then, let's get you dressed like a proper young lady."

Despite Thomas' fussing and groaning, Mary was able to get him, or her, dressed in an elegant, somewhat lacy, white and gold dress, and had even managed to get a corset on him/her. The dress exposed his delicate shoulders and he also donned a pair of white silk gloves that went up past his elbows. And of course his shoes, which were mostly hidden by his dress, were of just as impeccable craftsmanship as the rest of his clothes. "What should we do with your hair?" Mary mused, looking at the golden locks reaching down to Thomas' upper back, "It really is quite beautiful, I'm jealous."

"I don't care," replied Thomas, still trying to adjust to his layers of new clothes.

"At least give me some direction."

"Fine, something simple."

"Simple… oh I got an idea."

Mary tied some of Thomas' hair into a spiralling knot on the back of his head, and the remainder she let hang loose, but curled it a little so the remaining locks were a bit wavy, and then tied at the very end with a little bow. "There, all done. You really are quite pretty, you should go take a look at yourself."

"Fine," Thomas groaned, getting to his feet and walked over to his mirror.

When he saw himself he was actually rather surprised, "Well aren't I beautiful?" he said, making a cute little pout with his pretty young face and moving his curled locks to rest over his shoulder.

Seeing how pretty he looked actually made the experience somewhat worthwhile. He knew some charm spells too, so he doubted it'd be too hard to squeeze information out of the incubus. "I do good work don't I?" Mary asked.

"You do," Thomas replied, "I could kiss myself right now."

"Don't get too full of yourself."

At that moment the doorbell sounded and Thomas made his way towards the front as quickly as he could in his new body. He wanted to try out his charm spell, and he hoped the person in question was someone he could practice on.

As luck would have it he saw Basil open the door for the perfect test subject; a boy about his age with a lean, but strong frame. He had dark black hair and pale skin and was dressed in a torn black frock coat, a white shirt and cravat, dirt black breeches and had a black cape around his shoulders, though it looked just as worse for the wear as the rest of his finery.

"I'm sorry young sir, but the master is indisposed at the moment," he heard Basil say.

"It's okay Basil, I can take care of him," Thomas said sweetly.

He made his way down the stairs and curtsied towards the boy at the door whose pale cheeks turned rather pink. "Wh-who're you?" the pale boy asked.

"I'm Theresa Angelus, Lord Thomas' cousin," Thomas said, approaching the boy, only for Basil the pull him aside.

"Mistress can you not see that this boy is a vampire?" Basil asked quietly.

"Of course I can, and I have no intention of inviting him in until I know more about him," Thomas explained quickly.

"So," Thomas continued, breaking away from Basil and approaching the door, "What brings such a handsome boy to my cousin's doorstep?"

"I… uh, wanted to speak to Lord Angelus. Oh and m-my name is Lucian."

'I haven't even used my charm spell yet,' Thomas thought dryly. "Would you care to walk with me for a bit? I really am in need of some fresh air, and to have a strong, handsome young man around would make it all the more enjoyable."

"Oh! Uh, sure," Lucian stuttered, offering his arm, which Thomas took.

It was around that moment that Thomas cast his charm spell, when he stepped outside with Lucian, though in this case he wasn't sure it was necessary. They walked in silence for a time after that, Lucian looking both overjoyed and terrified. "So, a vampire, I didn't expect to see one of you in such a holy place as my cousin's house, even if it was too woo me."

"How did you-!? I didn't-," Lucian stuttered.

"You're quite cute when you stutter. But seriously, regardless of how I know you're a vampire, it doesn't change my question: why are you here? My cousin doesn't like agents of Hell coming to his mansion."

"I'm not an agent of Hell anymore," Lucian replied, stopping in his tracks and looking down, "It's a long story, but I only want Lord Angelus to hear it."

"You can tell me," Thomas replied, trying to put as much sweetness into his voice as possible, "Look at me."

Lucian did and he began blushing again, "I- okay," he said after a moment.

"Thank you."

"You're so cute, I just can't bring myself to say no," Lucian blurted out, though his eyes immediately widened in horror as he realized how up front he'd been.

"Shh," replied Thomas, putting a finger on Lucian's lips before he began to stutter again, "Tell me about you."

"Right… about me," Lucian began, "Well it started a long time ago, I think it was 1348, during the Great Plague and I had just turned twelve years of age. It was such a terrible time, everyone dying from an enemy we couldn't see, let alone fight. So many were sure it was divine punishment from God, but I wasn't so sure. I'm still not. It was more like abandonment. The light was gone from the world.

"Then my parents fell ill from the wicked disease. I prayed every night, but nothing came of it. They both died and I felt sure then; God had abandoned his own creation. I was so angry and bitter, and I decided that there was no longer any reason to fight Hell, so I vowed to join it. But I didn't want to forge a pact with a demon lord; I foolishly thought I could join the darkness on my own terms.

"So I sought out the laboratory of a local alchemist. Word was that he'd accidentally created a mystical, but cursed stone. They called it the Crimson Stone, and it could manifest the darkness of its user as a shade, and drain the souls and powers of others. I was hoping I could use it to become, well, a vampire. And I did. I stole the stone and found the castle of a powerful vampire named Lord Gautier. I had my Shade kill him and with the stone I stole his power and became a vampire lord."

"Hmm, I've heard of the Crimson Stone," Thomas said while Lucian took a break, "My cousin knows an alchemist. It's a failed Philosopher's Stone."

"Yes. And I got my immortality to spite God, and I got my power with which I could wage war against mortals and destroy His creation. But, of course, I hadn't counted on the fact that no servant of Hell truly had free will. Within minutes of becoming a vampire this voice entered my head and… it almost felt like I had fallen asleep and awoken in a dream. My mind was no longer truly my own. I don't really know how to describe it, there was just this dominating hatred that wasn't mine, and it made me do terrible things.

"Then, about a hundred years ago, after centuries of back and forth with vampire hunters and paladins, they finally beat me for good at the height of my power. I don't know how it happened, but when my shade resurrected me I discovered that my mind was my own again. The burning hate was gone, but the memories weren't, and I just felt horrible for all that I'd done.

"But Hell doesn't like its minions to gain free will, especially with memories intact. I've spent the last hundred years… looking for a cure. I know now that what happened to my parents was just chance. It could've been anyone. I want to be rid of this curse, I want a chance to atone, and I want to be mortal again. I've been twelve years of age for centuries. I figured Lord Thomas, whom I'd heard tell of as a great mage and holy warrior, could help me."

'So he wants my help,' Thomas thought, twirling a lock of hair around his finger as he thought, and dropping the charm spell at the same time. He was pretty sure the vampire, Lucian, wasn't lying. Then again it wouldn't be wise to trust a vampire too readily. There was one test he could perform right now, as there were by now walking near some rose bushes.

"Oh look roses, aren't they beautiful?" Thomas said, pulling off his glove and reaching out to grab one.

He pricked himself on one of the thorns and drew back swiftly, "Ouch," he gasped. "I'm bleeding."

"I'll just stay back here then," Lucian said.

"How rude, you should comfort a lady when she gets injured," Thomas teased.

"Were you not listening? I'm a vampire. I drink blood. I've managed to get the thirst under control for twenty years, I can't risk losing control."

"Fair enough," Thomas said, healing his cut with light magic, "You pass my test."

"What?"

"You wanted to meet Lord Angelus, well here I am. I know I'm looking a bit prettier than usual, but that's a long story."

"You're Lord Angelus!?" Lucian asked, dumbfounded.

"Are you calling poor little me a liar?" Thomas asked, pouting as sweetly as he could and being rewarded by Lucian blushing once again.

"N-no I-I just," Lucian began.

"I'm not sure if I can help you at the moment. I'm sort of in the middle of solving a different dilemma. You're free to stay on my grounds, but you'll have to earn more of my trust before I give you permission to enter my house."

"That's understandable I suppose. But where will I stay?"

"I'll have Basil whip something up for you. Now, shall we continue with our romantic walk?"

"I don't know, this is kind of weird."

"Right now I'm a girl, so just think of me as a girl," Thomas replied simply. "And you can stop undressing me with your eyes."

"I wasn't-"

"I'm just teasing," Thomas replied, "But yeah you were."

They walked in silence again for a while Thomas mused over how much fun he was having. Lucian's reactions were priceless, and it worked every time. He doubted the incubus would be this easy, but it couldn't be too hard. Plus the form itself was beautiful, and all in all it was like having a perfect costume for a performance. He was still eagerly awaiting his return to normal though; the corset was tight and he found the dress tended to get in the way.

"What if one day it will be acceptable for women to wear similar clothes as men?" Thomas mused aloud.

"I don't know, I've seen fashion change much in five hundred years."

"You know what I do know?" Thomas asked, moving close to Lucian and making him uncomfortable once again, "I know that in about a hundred years girls will swim almost naked; just a small top to cover their breasts, and small bottoms to cover the unmentionables. What do you think of that?"

"I… uh, y-you're enjoying doing this to me aren't you?"

"Yup, but you're enjoying it too, otherwise you'd have told me to stop."

"Why are you a girl anyways?"

"To seduce an incubus… uh oh."

"What's uh oh?"

"Well the incubus is coming here tonight, representing Lord Smith at my birthday ball. Things could become much tougher if he senses a vampire."

"Especially a runaway," Lucian added.

"Exactly. I have to think of a way to keep you hidden while I work him."

"What are you interested in him for? Surely you don't intend to, well, you know."

"Of course not, I just want a little information out of him. I got it out of you didn't I?"

"What kind of information?"

"That's classified," Thomas said. "Now come, what kind of gentleman doesn't escort his lady back to her home."

"O-oh, sorry, I j-just," Lucian began, but was cut off by Thomas kissing him, which only made him turn even more red, or as red as his pale face could get.

"There, you got a kiss, now stop stuttering and start escorting," Thomas said, holding out his arm.

Lucian seemed a little too shocked to speak, so he just did as asked and moments later they were back at the mansion's doors where Thomas curtsied again. "Basil!" he called, causing the angel to appear right beside him, and making Lucian jump about a foot in the air.

"Yes master?"

"We have a vampire guest who claims he would like to be cured. As I am currently pre-occupied with other matters and am not ready to allow him within my home, please create some suitable lodgings for him elsewhere on the grounds."

"Yes master," Basil said, vanishing again.

"Lucian, Basil will be with you again shortly," Thomas explained, "He will create a place for you to stay until I'm ready to deal with you. Understood?"

"Yes my lady," Lucian replied, while Thomas closed the doors.

"And I need to freshen up a little; I have a big night after all."


End file.
